queer was never this fabulous

Thursday, September 14, 2006

A funny thought crossed my mind today...

Were there ever gay cavemen?

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Fab is BACK!

Nine months, 25 one night stands, and one earth-shattering heartbreak later, FAB is BACK on Blogger!

It's been a long time since I've updated this blog. And that's not to say that it's been an uneventful nine months. Cuz honey, believe me, it HAS. It's just that I haven't found the time or perhaps, the inspiration, to log back onto Blogger and write again.

Well, now I'm back.

And as a recap, here are the TOP 9 THINGS WHICH HAPPENED IN THE PAST 9 MONTHS>>>

1. Was promoted to Assistant Brand Manager in January 06! Hurrah! More pay! More work! This sadistic workaholic loves pain. After all, when you're a bottom, you realize that pleasure always comes with pain.

2. Flew to Shanghai, Beijing, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Malaysia. I love work trips. I love side trips even more. But I also love checking out men in other countries. So far, Shanghai was the most exciting. It's brimming with expat yummies waiting for a hot Asian boy like me. hahaha. Vietnam had the lowest ratio of gorgeous men. I'll end there, for fear that I might get hate mail from my Vietnamese friends. hahaha.

3. Turned 24. Sadly being born on Valentine's Day still proves to be a curse. Was not only dateless, but ended up working till midnight on my birthday. Next year will be better. Will spend my 25th with a gorgeous man, as he wines and dines me in a cozy little cabana in El Nido. *sigh* We Aquarians are always in search for the "impossible" dream. haha. Oh well. It's free to dream.

4. Met a beautiful man in the Fitness First steam room. He came over, gave me a blowjob and asked me out to dinner. It was a fairytale...that lasted two and a half months.

5. Beautiful man broke my heart. Asshole.

6. Realized that I deserve better than what ex-beautiful man had to offer. After crying bucket loads, I picked myself back up, shopped for a new wardrobe, colored my hair, went back to the gym, rechanneled my energy to work and bounced back with panache! Nothing can keep this diva down! I deserve the best! Heartbreak alone won't keep me down! And now, I actually believe it. *simmmersizzleglow*

7. Came out to Mom and family. It was like one of those tearful scenes straight from a gay movie. I came out to Mom the day after the heartbreak. I told her I was gay in between sobs. She cried. I cried harder. She said that it didn't matter that I was gay. That she loved me even more and was proud of me regardless. And she said that if my dad was alive still, he'd be proud of me too. I cried bucketloads, as the relief and the love washed away the heartache. I love my mom! :-)

8. Friends came and went, but things, happily, still stayed the same. Mama Cia gave birth to a bouncing baby, Kerby. Guia left her post as President of Snag-A-Man Foundation, beating every other member as she snagged a new boyfriend. Helen and Lorenzo adopted a baby Siamese, my inaanak, who, should he choose to be gay since he's been neutered, I shall welcome with open arms. Knox left for North Carolina, who I miss dearly and who I call every so often for hours on end on my company-sponsored phone. Things change. People move. And they grow up, in the same way that you do. And, luckily, it's always for the better.

9. I grew into me. Amidst the occasional bouts of crippling quarter life crisis and the peaks and troughs, I realized that I'm not that bad off. Life is good. Even drama queens like me realize that eventually. Sometimes all you need is a knock on the head - and God knows, I've had my fair share. I'll repeat it again - Life IS Good.

Dream Big. Live Fully.


Monday, November 21, 2005

The Perils of Hooking Up Over the Internet

and the earth shaking disappointment of meeting guys who look better in half-naked, airbrushed, strategically-cropped and Photoshopped photos

Downelink. Tickle. Guys4Men. Fridae. Manjam. There are so many websites nowadays for gay men to post their half-naked photos (and sometimes fully naked photos) online in hopes of snatching a hot, well-endowed playmate or a potential life-long partner (yes, we also experience temporary delusion when surfing through endless eye candy online). It’s almost as if gay men didn’t get enough action from their Wednesday nights in Fahrenheit, Thursday nights in Government and Friday nights in Bed.

But there’s an entirely different rush with the prospect of hooking up over the Internet. It’s so much more random and exciting. There’s always the thrill of finding the hidden toy in the cereal box. The endless excitement of perhaps stumbling upon someone who COULD, according to all the info in his profile, be the ONE.

Of course most of the time it’s also downright hilarious. But nothing is more frustrating than coming face to face with "Mr. Hung & Perfect" whose photo and profile reads "fair, 5’10, athletic build, aggressive top, extra large" and realizing that he’s a tall, pale, waifish queer with extra large…ears.

The Five Biggest Mistakes That Gay Men Make in "Online Dating"

1. Wow! Nice bod! Too bad that’s not YOU in the photo

Boys I know that we all fantasize about Marc Nelson, Brent Javier, Luke Jickain and Rafael Rosel. But PLEASE. You are NOT THEM! Please limit your fantasies to XXX movies in your mind. Do NOT post their photos in your profiles and hope and pray that you’d actually fool anyone.

Really. Nothing bothers me more than when guys pass off other people’s photos as their own.

If you really aspire to have a six pack and a rock hard chest, then go to the gym. Work out. Diet. Take supplements. Get plastic surgery. But never ever pretend to be the hot Bench model that you so aren’t.

Because we know better.

2. Don’t try to pick me up if you don’t have a photo

If you don’t have a photo you’re probably really ugly - too ugly to have a photo decent enough to post in your profile. In that case, don’t bother sending me a message. I won’t answer.

I also don’t want a photo of just your body. Sure you might have a really chiseled body, but I want to see your face. I don’t want to have to fantasize that you have a face like Diether just because you have abs like him. Because let’s face it, you probably don’t. The last thing I’d ever want to do is have to put a paper bag over your head when we’re having sex.

I also don’t want to see a photo of your cock. Really.

3. Sure you’re HOT, but you have awful grammar

Boys please make sure that you have decent sentence construction skills. Proper syntax is important. Spelling is important too. I know that most gay men hardly ever read what’s written in your profile. But I do and that makes all the difference.

If you received a decent education then prove it. Write a perfectly constructed sentence in either English or Tagalog. But not both. Taglish is spoken. It is NOT written. Gay lingo is also spoken. Never ever write chuva or tienes in your profile. Ever.

4. Don’t ever ask me if I want a blow job

Come up with a better pick up line dammit! Come up with something amusing or intelligent. Read my profile and reply with a witty retort. Heck, you can even impress me with a sexual innuendo but never ever ask me for sex outright. And never ever message me with something that reads "pare, gusto mo sipsipin ko ang kilikili mo?" Yuck. Yuck. Yuck.

Pay a little respect please.

Ask me where I live first, what my interests are, what kind of guy I like. Compliment me on how I look and on how often I work out. Warm me up a little bit. Rev up my engine.

But never pounce on me cold.

5. "I’m Just Your Average Guy" – Ay really? Average lang? No thanks.

You’re average lang? I’m sorry. But I’m NOT. I’m complicated, successful, intelligent and really hot… and I DON’T settle for average. Average makes me think of 4 inch penises, tummy flab, boring floppy hair, baggy Bench jeans, ill fitting Polo shirts and black Mendrez shoes. "Here lies an average guy" is NOT something that you would want engraved on your tombstone, so why oh why would you want to use it to describe yourself when you’re objective is TO SELL YOURSELF?!?

So boys, please don’t ever ever put "I’m just an average guy" in your profiles. Average, normal and god forbid – SIMPLE – are NOT words that you would want to describe your performance in bed. So please. Humility does not work in our world. Brag about you penis size, your rock hard chest, your third nipple, your MENSA IQ, your armpit fetish, anything that would make me want to consider bookmarking you.

Just please make sure that whatever you write is true.

Because at the end of the day, funny as it may seem, I’d rather meet an honest ‘average’ guy than a downright liar.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

What Do You Do With Unwanted Ex-Boyfriends?

Exes are funny things. They're like unwanted Christmas gifts. You're thankful that you received them, but you really don't want to keep them. So what exactly do you do with them?

Do you toss them out with the rest of the trash? Or do you keep them around, wondering if you'll eventually find a use for them? Or better yet, do you wrap them up in a pretty little box and give them away to some desperate soul who'd want them?

I have to admit, I'm not good at handling unwanted gifts because I'm have a knack for collecting junk. For the most part, I keep them and stuff them in the darkest corner of my closet, hoping that I'll forget the gift entirely.

That's how I've dealt with my ex-boyfriends. They're the junk in the darkest corner of my closet. Out of sight, out of mind. But every once in a while, when I clean out my big gay closet, I find the same ugly little gift staring at me in the face and I once again find myself wondering what the Hell I should do.

Recently gossip about my most recent ex-boyfriend's illicit trysts surfaced. It was one of those juicy rumors that spread like wildfire and left everyone with a Munch-like scream on their face. It was news that shocked me and prompted me to write the scathing poem below.

(Note: I am at my most inspired when I'm pissed off.)

A Scathing Ode to My Ex

I heard ‘bout what you’re doing
And I really disagree,
Sleeping with a married man
My God, what gall have thee!

I heard that you were kissing
In the parking lot to boot
And heard that you’ve been dressing
Alike from hair to foot.

Now it really wouldn’t matter,
It’s none of my biz you see,
I’m only your ex-boyfriend
And you’re a distant memory.

But please not in the office,
I hear ‘bout it all the time
I don’t like saying anything
When they say "Oh what a crime!"

On an office trip to Bora
I heard you both escaped
To do the evil, dirty deed
And had sex until real late.

Of course that wouldn’t matter,
Had it been any other guy
But this guy here is different
He’ll be a father in a while.

And I’m really not surprised
You’ve always been a little boy
Who never really realized
That men are not just toys.

You hurt men and you break their hearts
After you’ve played them all quite well
And then you toss them in the bin
And say "Oh, go to Hell"

"I’ve found a newer, better guy
Many things I want he’ll buy,
He’ll drive me, dine and spend on me
And the limit is the sky!"

"So goodbye to you, I’m sorry,
But we finally are through,
I feel that I don’t love you
And have no more use for you."

So how’s your life as a querida?
Does your conscience ever cry?
Will you ever be really happy
When your "relationships" all die?

One day you too will get real hurt
When you meet a man like you
Who’ll love you now with all his heart
But dump you when he chooses to.

A part of me is saddened
And shaken to the core
When I realize that all you want
Is to live life like a whore.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

There IS Hope After All

Kris Aquino just announced on The Buzz that she’s going to get married.

Kris Aquino. The self-confessed queen of perpetual heartbreak has found the One.

My goodness, there IS hope for all of us attention craving, overly idealistic, man crazy, romantically starved, birthday-on-Valentine’s-Day-cursed Aquarians after all.

I feel like celebrating.

If Kris can have happily ever after, then so can I.

Monday, June 06, 2005

Simmer. Sizzle. Glow.

At last! I found HIM! The only gorgeous man in Cebu. I saw him the minute I entered Café Theatro. The cute boy with the soft chestnut eyes and sexy goatee. The cute boy with the trim figure in the fashyon black shirt buttoned down low enough to show off his smooth mestizo chest. The cute boy laughing playfully with his mixed crowd of fags, fag hags and drag queens - all enamored by his beauty. It was HIM. The gorgeous man that I had been waiting for. I was mesmerized. Spellbound. I could feel my temperature rising. I had to meet him.


Ooh was he FINE! Half-Scottish. Half-Cebuano. And hung like a White boy! Ylmaz Bektas lookalike. Gorgeous. Gorgeous. Gorgeous.

We danced all night. It started rather innocently with a simple introduction. A smile. Then I made my move and made him mine. We were grinding like there was no tomorrow. It was electric. Our hot bodies rhythmically rubbing against each other. Dancing in unison. Lips brushing against each other’s cheeks. Playfully teasing.

We left at dawn. I offered to take him home. But he decided to come over. He was mine.
His lips were the softest I’ve ever kissed. He seemed to read my mind, kissing me slowly, gently and playfully. And in return, I made sure that he’d never forget me. We passionately made love as the sun rose, not stopping until we were both exhausted from the night of partying and lovemaking. I fell asleep in his arms, his legs wrapped around mine, our lips locked together. I wanted to sleep in his embrace. Forever.


We woke up early in the morning from a brief rest. The sun shone brightly on our nakedness. I was still in his arms; our bodies still locked in a tight embrace. One final kiss. And then I dropped him home.

I’ll never see him again. I don’t know if I want to. I don’t know if I can. I’ll leave in a month’s time. I’ll return to my real life, to my real world. Should anything more happen in the time that I’m here, I know my heart wouldn’t be able to take it when I leave.

So instead I’ll cherish last night fondly. My night with the most gorgeous man in Cebu. He will be the one that made my four months here memorable. He will be the one that I’ll never forget. The one that I’ll remember ten years from now and wonder if he’s the one that got away. But I know that sometimes it’s best to leave things as they are. Because I’d rather live with a beautiful memory than leave with a broken heart. And so there it ends.

Last night gave me hope that I’ll meet someone as gorgeous and as wonderful as him in the future. It gave me hope that there is hope. And in time he will come. In the most random circumstance. When I least expect it. Because someone like me deserves someone equally wonderful.

Because I am beautiful. I am stunning. I am red hot. I am worth it. And yes, I am all that.


Friday, June 03, 2005

Where Have All the Cute Boys Gone?

I haven’t had sex in a while. A month and two weeks to be exact. Cebu, they said, was filled with yummy Chinito bois and Mestizo men who would gladly throw themselves at me the instant I do my signature Blue Steel pout. Sad to say, I’ve been here for three months and not one gorgeous Chinito boi or delicious Mestizo man has even thrown me as much as a glance. Partly because, THERE ARE NO GORGEOUS CHINITO BOIS AND DELICIOUS MESTIZO MEN IN CEBU! Whoever told me that vicious lie…well, LIED. I vow to curse them with itchy pubic lice for life.

All the gorgeous men have gone. Sigh. I feel like Paula Cole singing longingly - ‘where have all the cowboys gone’? Yes. She feels my pain. I bet she too has been to Cebu.

Truth be told, I haven’t seen anyone remotely good-looking here in Cebu. I discussed this with my favorite fag hag here who is having an equally difficult time searching for an attractive, single straight man. She has a tougher challenge actually. Try finding an attractive single man in Cebu that’s straight and NOT Korean! Hahaha. Life is cruel! If it’s become mission impossible finding a queer dream boy then it’s 69 times harder finding a gorgeous single man. Oh woe is we. Young. Single. Fabulous. All for nothing in this wasteland that is Cebu.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

The Story Unravels

WARNING: To all those reading this...this is NOT for the faint of heart. This is a story that I've been writing with this really hot guy through email...one of those he wrote, he wrote back type of things....the parts he wrote are in purple, the parts I wrote are in blue.

...someone leads your hand to a dark alley, caressing your shoulders while pushing you gently against the wall, hands slowly going down your arms and finally rests on your hips.... then softly whisper to your ear... "hold-up 'to"....

...and i whisper back, breath heavy and body arched against the wall, "rob me gently". with your lips against my face, you lightly bite my ear and move your hands across my chest, slowly feeling the hard curves and inching your hands into my shirt. i moan. you move in closer. your body up against mine. hard. rough. manly. but gentle at the same time. your soft lips brush against my cheek as you hike up my shirt. breathing heavy, your head moves south and you lightly kiss my nipples. your tongue licks me to ecstasy. my body writhes. a soft moan. and slowly, i begin to feel your other hand caressing my buttocks, feeling the hardness in my jeans, your hand inching in closer...and i feel you...searching for my wallet....

... and as i continue licking your nipples while my hands feel your firm buttocks, my right hand dips inside your back pocket, pulling your wallet hidden inside while my left hand cups your right butt cheek.... you moan softly and your body writhes in ecstacy while i continue licking your nipples that goes down to your navel.... i get hold of your wallet, put it inside my pocket and my hands goes back to your slope of your back while my lips go up again, this time towards your neck and i softly thrust my whole body towards yours.... my lips go higher towards your ears and i whisper..."give me your cellphone"....

... i slowly grin, eyebrows raised..."well, you're going to have to do a lot better than that if you want my cellphone too"... staring you straight in the eyes, i reach over and gently kiss you. our worlds intertwine. your tongue gently caresses my mouth and i kiss you back. a rhythmic dance. i can taste all of you...the bitterness of cigarettes...the sweetness of your soul...the spice of your lust. your body slowly grinds against mine...your arm reaches out to mine...fingers interlocked...i lead you down...past my belt unbuckled...and you begin to unravel my world...

... with fingers intertwined, i lead you to the darkest corner of the alley, making sure that no one else can see the hot and steaming moment going on... i gently push you towards the wall again and hungrily kiss your soft lips, probing the deepest corner of your hungry mouth... you respond with your all-too-willing tongue and for an endless moment, we savor the sweet and lustful kiss that seemed to last forever... our bodies rubbing and aching with lust while our hands grope and feel every corner of our still clothed body... i pause for a moment, look straight into your eyes and say "is this what you want ??"... your eyes closed and respond so softly, "yes please, dont stop.." i then continue kissing your lips, your cheeks, going down to your neck, licking and kissing non-stop... you continue moaning softly and i pause to excitedly remove your shirt and mine.... now skin to skin, body to body, savoring the pleasure of heat coming out of our lustful bodies... the hardness of both our manliness are felt by such contact that we both catch our breath with excitement ...you begin to grope on my belt and start to unbuckle them while i continue unbuttoning your half-opened pants.... and we start getting more daring in unraveling these charted territories that seemed like no one has gone there before.... and i whisper to your ears while still catching my breath, "i want your cellphone... and you.... now.."

… "you’re going to have to earn it" I groan back. And with that you kiss me harder as I begin to melt in your embrace. My soul drifts towards you, enraptured by your raw passion and held captive by your lust. "You’re mine," you growl into my ear, "and I’m going to have all of you". And with my pants unbuttoned, you slowly slide your hands inside and gently pull down my briefs, exposing my world to your lustful hunger. I shudder. A cold chill runs down my spine. You sense me tremble and hold me even closer as your body drifts south. Your tongue dances against my flesh with teasing swirls and light flicks, down my belly button and down further… you pause…teasingly….and grin. Your hand grabs my behind and my body arches, thrusting my world forward. You stagger , but bounce right back. I look down at your gorgeous face - just inches away from my throbbing manhood. You tease and I shudder. And in one graceful advance your hungry mouth moves in as I feed you my all. Ecstasy. My heart races as I feel your tongue explore all the terrains of my world. Pleasure. My body tenses with each playful stroke of your tongue. Lust. My flesh aches with longing every time you swallow me whole in your rhythmic ritual. You suck harder, faster and so relentlessly that I gasp in the throes of passion. Panting, I look down. Our eyes meet. Your eyes twinkle in the moonlight, mischievously. I lightly nod with consent. And with my world still inside your mouth, you move your hands up my loins, slowly caressing my buttocks and you begin to move in. You slide your finger inside of me, slowly, gently. I willingly let you enter…

... as i continue sucking on the wholeness of your throbbing manhood, my fingers begin to enter the dark crevices of your inner sanctum... gently and cautiously probing, making sure that the whole experience is felt and savoured with complete exhiliration... you continue moaning deeply, your body moving back and forth, totally engulfed with so much lust that its now literally begging for more... more sucking, licking and probing ensued and you're body is now whacked with so much heat that when i lead your head to my own world, you hungrily engulfed mine and skilfully slid the wholeness of it, making sure that all nook and cranny is covered with your sweet saliva... by now my pants and undies are down to the floor and im the one leaning on the wall, moaning and groaning as you moved further down south and licked everything with gusto... endless slurping and licking sounds that seemed to reverberate in my ears... "ooohh, please dont stop....dont...stop" were all the words i can utter as you continue sucking and licking my wholeness.. until it came to a point where i cant bear it any longer... i held your shoulders and guided you up, our eyes met, i kissed you deeply and hungrily afterwhich i mumbled... "i want you... i desperately want you....now....please...."

To Be Continued...

Saturday, April 02, 2005

Pretending to be Straight

I met up with a childhood friend last night. It was one of those, "hey, I’m in town, let’s get together for a drink and pick up some chicks" type of nights. Groan. A lot has changed since the days of Nintendo and Ninja Turtles. Much more than I’d be willing to divulge in an evening spent talking about girls.

Now, my friend, let’s call him by the name "Johnson", is one of those guys who would like to think that he’s a gift to womankind. After having watched Hitch too many times, Johnson fancies himself as a Pinoy version of Will Smith’s charming seducer minus the looks, build and style. Eyes rolling, I already knew that this was going to be a long night.

Good Lord…I have never heard the word "girl" said SO MANY TIMES in one night! Girls this…hot girls that…what’s your type of girl…this is how you pick up a girl…it’s all about making a girl feel like she’s the one…this is where you can find the hot, easy girls…girls, girls, girls. Good grief, I wanted to excuse myself and hang myself in the washroom with my garrison belt!

And then the dreaded question – "why don’t you have a girlfriend now?" Chills ran up my spine. The same chills that run up my spine whenever my Tita, who knows I haven’t had a girlfriend in years, sets me up with her friend’s daughters. Panicking I tell him that I’m a perfectionist and just haven’t found The One.

And then he asks what qualities I look for in a girl. And get this, I say, "I want a girl who’s smart, pretty, funny and speaks straight English." Talk about a generic answer! Not one mention of breast size and facial features! Now, if he didn’t get the last quality as an indicator that there’s something WRONG with me, then he’s really dense. Most guys I know wouldn’t even mention "speaks straight English" as a much-desired quality from their dream girl. It would be right there down in the bottom of the list along with "doesn’t have armpit hair" and "isn’t cross-eyed". But then again, I’m not your typical straight guy.

I felt like I was talking about basketball – exactly, I don’t watch or play basketball, so I don’t know anything about the stupid sport. That’s exactly the same way talking about girls felt. It’s been way too long since I’ve looked at a girl and admired her for more than her fashion sense.

Anyway..this is to be continued...

Monday, March 28, 2005


What happens when a seemingly perfect man can’t seem to land a stable relationship?

I met a really great guy recently. He’s wildly intelligent, attractive in all the ways I want my man to be, driven, with a witty sense of humor and a take charge attitude towards life. It was magnetic. In his eyes I could see the future. In his presence I could feel the possibility of eternity. And for a while, I honestly thought that he could too.

But alas, a glitch.

One hell of a glitch.

He wasn’t over his ex yet. And to make matters worse, his ex happens to be someone that I’m very familiar with.

HIM. The same guy that broke my first boyfriend’s heart. Who, as a result, was a shattered mess when I fell in love with him. And no matter how much I loved him, he still wasn’t fully ok from the torment that HE put him through.

Here we go again.

History repeats itself. And once again, I fall for someone that HE has broken.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Surviving Mr.Wrongs and the Motley Crew of Mr. Not-Quite-Rights

After being hurt so many times is it possible to find the RIGHT MAN to love again?
This author would like to think so…but, admittedly, is having a really tough time actually doing it.

I must admit, that deep down inside I’m a cynic. I can be nasty, judgmental and overly critical. Some may call me a perfectionist and it may be good sometimes. But being a perfectionist in pursuit of a lifetime partner has gotten me into more despair than my OC-ness in perfecting overdue project proposals.

I may project myself to be the stereotypical hopelessly romantic, eternally optimistic Aquarian, but deep down inside, I doubt if I’ll ever love someone as intensely, as passionately and as securely as the two men I’ve loved before.

No one can say that I haven’t tried. I’ve dated the neighbors and slept with the entire barangay while trying desperately to recover from my last break up. It was a futile attempt. The more I dated, the more I encountered men that didn’t quite hit the passing mark. Too many things hindered them from being the "perfect one".

Meet Mr. Wrongs and the Motley Crew of Mr. Not-Quite-Rights:

Mr. Wrongs-for-Me
Bad English, unforgivably horrid grammar and an unnerving habit of interchanging his "p’s" with "f’s".
Bottomline: If I can’t introduce you to my friends without cringing every time you say "flease fass the rice", then our future is through.

Mr. Party-Animal-Needs-To-Grow-Up
Total party animal and Big Fish regular, has been to all the parties and has slept with all the drugged-up trance addicts in NBC tent, weed/E/"Wari Active" junkie, with dreadfully over-dyed hair.
The Verdict: If I can’t introduce you to my Mom and brothers, or to my maid even, without worrying that they might think I’m dating a kanto boy, then I’m sorry, but you’ve simply got to go – and please rinse your god-awful hair when you do.

Mr. Too-Much-Flair
Wonderfully sensitive, insightful and is totally infatuated with me! Jackpot you say? Umm…not quite sister!
The Problem: Even if you are God’s gift to all gaykind with your beautiful heart, there are times when I need to be ravaged by a real man – the kind that doesn’t flail his arms when excited or wear pink floral-printed shirts on dates.

Mr. Too-Wise-for-My-Own-Good
Brilliant man, accomplished individual, award-winning interior designer who’s designed homes for the filthiest of the filthy rich – but who has the emotional and romantic maturity of an 18 year old boy.
The Final Decision: If at 41 years old you STILL have problems committing to someone, then you’re doomed to stay single forever. And honey, I won’t be around forever, and at your age, neither will you.

Thursday, March 10, 2005


"We can learn a lot from crayons. Some are sharp, some are pretty and some are dull. Some have weird names and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box."

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

The Sign Next to the Bathroom Urinal

There’s a sign in the office bathroom that says:
"Gentlemen: Please aim. Stand closer. It’s shorter than you think."

I can’t help but wonder what they mean by the last sentence. What’s shorter? Is it the distance between you and the urinal? Or is it an offensive comment poking fun at the size of your dick?

While I’d like to think that the phrase refers to the previous statement, I really can’t help but agree that it makes more sense that it’s the latter.

Dicks aren’t as big as you’d like for them to be.

Or as you’d hope.

I’ve seen my fair share of dicks. And I’ve slept with more than my fair share of men to know that physical appearance does not, by any means, determine dick size. Sad to say, sleeping with most of them have left a lot to be desired – size wise.

Forget everything they said about foot size. You know what they say about guys with big feet right? Well… they have big feet. That’s all. No mathematical equation about foot size divided by half plus 2 inches will ensure that Mr. Big(foot) is big anywhere else.

Forget hand size too. No relation. Or nose size for that matter.

And forget all hopes that Mr. Pin-Up-Model, with the bulging pecs and ripped abs, will be The One. While it would be ideal that he had an equally impressive bulge elsewhere, being buff does not necessarily equate to having an equally buffed-up package. Believe me, I’ve slept with enough Herculean gods to know that sometimes the white loincloths are best left on.

On average, the men that I’ve slept with have had dicks anywhere from one poor little inch to four inches. (Let’s keep Mr. Rock-Hard-7-Inches out of the discussion). Let’s not even talk about girth. Balls have been equally disappointing. Quail eggs anyone?

Looks can really be deceiving and once the boxer briefs are off, utterly disappointing.


Okay. Maybe I’m being too hard on short men. (pun intended)

It’s not their fault that they weren’t gifted with a bigger package. And I’m sure that day and night they worry that they may be inadequate.

So I’ll be a bit nicer now (*positive thinking mode switched on*).

It’s true that they don’t have much to brag about, but in all fairness, some of them DO certainly know how to compensate. Some men with smaller dicks really know how to give a blowjob. And boy, do they blow! Talk about mind-blowing, toe-curling, back-arching, gasping-for-air orgasms! You know, the type where you’re caught in the verge of climax with each flick of his tongue.

This brings me back to the sign in the office bathroom and how it rings with truth. Men with short dicks have learned to aim. They’ve learned what works well and feels best – how fast to lick and which sensitive parts are most receptive. While they don’t have bragging rights or the right to dangle their dicks from a considerable distance – they have developed skills that makes them far more valuable. Short men aim to please. And boy, do they AIM well!

Saturday, May 31, 2003

Two and a Half Hours and Ten Positions Later

I had a one night stand last night. My first one night stand. Did I feel bad after? No. Did I feel guilty? Not really. Did I enjoy it? Well...yes. Would I do it again? Absolutely.

Now before I delve into the nitty gritty details it's quite interesting to compare hetero and homosexual relationships. In a typical guy-girl relationship, it takes a while before the guy can squeeze himself inside the girl's panties. A one-night stand is rare, as not all guys have bodies like Mark Wahlberg and faces like Brad Pitt. For those that do, they are excluded from this topic, as Gods by definition, are not mere men. So for the ordinary guy who's somewhat good looking, with a decent body and hopefully, with at least an ounce of personality, it takes more than musky cologne and alcohol to get a girl. Often times, dinner, drinks and/or a movie are a prerequisite to getting laid, since girls, unlike guys, have a profound need for intimacy before she can ride the stallion and moan out expletives in the heat of orgasmic passion.

And yes, not all girls are like Samantha from Sex in the City. As liberated as many claim to be, it is a proven fact that not all Filipinas are as sexually adventurous, i.e. horny, as men would hope for them to be. 85% of the women I've asked have staunchly said NO when I asked them if they had ever seeked self-pleasure by rubbing themselves. I'm certain, however, that a good percentage of these women are lying. After all, if straight men masturbate at least once every three days, and if gay men masturbate everyday, and if bisexual and lesbian women openly admit to masturbating once in a while, then I am sure that straight women have done it too. But then again I'm digressing. The main point of this was to talk about the man I slept with and the mindblowing sex that we had last night.

But before that, let's talk about gay relationships. Gay men by nature are horny. And since generally men, whether straight or gay, are easy, putting one gay man together with another gay man, almost immediately spells out an evening of uninhibited, no-holds-barred sex. And sure, for formalities sake, while dinner and coffee would be nice, it is not a necessity. As the IRC underworld would have it, the first thing sexually adventurous men ask for is "if you have a place." If you do, then good for you. But before you do anything rash, ask for their pic through the net to make sure they're not a grotesque monster or worse, your relative; call them up on the phone to ensure that they really are a man and to gauge the "straight-actingness" of your prospective mate's voice; and then decide where, when and what time to meet. Once the plans are set, just make sure that at least one of you has protection and hopefully, enough lubricant. And then after a few minutes of conversation, the bopping begins.

I noticed that sleeping with a stranger tends to be rougher and more dynamic. When you love a person you tend to be more gentle and intense, when you don't, you grind and bump like there's no tomorrow. And since I didn't know the guy, we grinded and bumped like there was no tomorrow, or day after that, or even, days after that. In other words, two and a half hours and ten positions later, I was tired, spent and longing for more.

Take note, gay guys are also picky with the guys they would like to get in the sack. Appearance is important. I wouldn't consider sleeping with a bear or an effem. Sorry, I don't mean to discriminate against members of my kind, but I prefer straight-acting, straight-looking men. "Real" men turn me on.

And besides, if I did want someone effeminate, I'd have sex with a girl - after all, I am more than open to experimentation. But I guess in the end, it all boils down to one thing - a dick is a dick and a hole is a hole. In the gay man's world, even without genuine love and red-hot animal attraction in the equation, sex is still simply sex - it's always on your mind and you just keep on looking for more.