I Kissed Them All and I Liked It

You see, I don't really kiss - well, not as much. Don't get me wrong please, I have had my share of kisses in the past - and some of them were really really good. So good in fact that they have made their mark. This is me kissing and telling.

There was a guy I dated for a few months when I was still so young and innocent. We found ourselves kissing in a "straight turned PLU" bar (in the province) where I, along with a few close friends, used to host the biggest and grandest PLU parties. That night, there were a few people left in the bar and what began as an innocent dare of French turned out to be a not-so-wholesome French that lasted for more than half-an-hour. The thought of that night still makes me smile every so often. I was landi, really. And the waiters, those who saw me that night, have remained good friends until now. The boy I kissed, according to a friend, is my kissing soul mate - we kissed again in Mafia several years later and it was still magical.

Then there was this guy whom I met in Malate. Bed was not yet the most malandi place back then - it was Mr. Piggy's and yes, I was there every weekend. Kissing, apparently, was the usual start of hot nights in that place - and it can get really really hot there - effin kind of hot and borderline crazy! So this guy approached me, out of nowhere, and that was it. The kiss was not really that memorable - it was just that, that night, I lost my shirt. Yes, I lost the shirt that I was still wearing. Eventually, I found it lying several feet from where we were. Repeating what my friend said to me that night: "Kasi naman ang landi - nahubaran na nakikipaghalikan pa din." Haha. So there you go.

And then there was this guy in Biology (the bar dummy, not the subject) - yes, that place can also be really crazy. Up to now, I still can't figure out how twenty people can fit in one extremely small washroom. Anyway, I met this boy just outside the washroom. He started it. We kissed. We groped. And we kissed some more. After an hour or so of making out, the boy asked me to leave the place and go elsewhere. I was seriously considering it but I asked him how old he was. He said he was fourteen and I, I was 25ish then. Damn. Pinagpraktisan ako? Ha ha. I immediately went home, turned on the shower and made kuskos myself with an imaginary soap reciting my usual line: "ang dumi dumi ko... ang dumi dumi ko..." Ha ha. Joke lang. So there you go.

Then there was this guy - boyfriend ko daw sya and he refused to kiss. I was fine with that arrangement but after a week or so I felt that I had to ask him why. Bad breath ba ako? Ayaw ba nya ng smell ng yosi? LOL. Apparently, hindi nya pala ko mahal. May hang ups pa amputa. Why do I always find myself with these guys? Anyway, after a few months, he was able to resolve his issues and we eventually kissed. It was magical (for him, he said so) but unfortunately for him, I had already started treating him as one of my fuck buddies. Ayaw mo pala ah - FB ka na lang. There you go.

More recently, I kissed a blogger and I liked it. And yes, there are still nights when I think about that kiss. And yes, he knows this. Ha ha. Enough said.

I kissed my regular fubu before I left and I liked it too. We've been fubus for more than four years and we've never kissed. We finally did the night before I left Manila and yes, it was really good. He said that he was afraid that if we had kissed, it would have made our arrangement more serious and there would have been a chance for him to fall for me. He was afraid daw. Sakit sa ulo. Why are people afraid of falling love with a bad chick? Ha ha.

When I got here, I realized that kissing is quite common. People meet up to kiss (and make out). People kiss on the street, yes, even guys. I have now learned to appreciate this fact - so I have joined the kissing crowd. I am beginning to enjoy it. I barely know the people I kiss these days but who cares? I am a free boy anyway.

Blogger's Note: I now understand why they call it French - their people are way ahead of the game. Americans are a close second; the Brits are not far behind. Asians? Well, nevermind.