Sometimes, I Just Scare Myself

I have been topic-less the last few days - well, not really but some of the things (and people) that have caught my fancy are not really worthy of one big blog post. I still have several drafts that I have yet to complete - mostly pokpok posts which I haven't really finalized. There are also some emo posts that should never - and I mean never-ever - see the light of day. Tama na ang pokpok na emo, thank you very much. So appetizers muna.

***

It's Halloween tomorrow and it seems like it's really a big thing in this part of the world - I have seen costumes stores pop out from nowhere and all the local news are showing halloween episodes. The Food Network - yes, I'm so gay - even has halloween recipes and Martha - oh my dear Martha - has even dressed up as a shaggy character from the film (and book), "Where the Wild Things Are.". Please forgive her. Haha. My apartment has even scheduled a trick or treat activity tomorrow for all of its residents.

And this leaves me a little bit concerned.

I am definitely going out tomorrow - will hit the clubs - and yes, it's costume night - I think. So what the eff am I going to do tomorrow? I just want to dance but I don't really want to look like a loser in loserville. Should I even wear a costume? And oh, who or what should I be? It does not help that all of my friends (the very few I have made) are non-Americans who are just way too detached from the Halloween and gay clubbing culture. I am just as clueless as Bridget Jones in her bunny costume. Ugh.

I can always go as a gay vampire but that is way too Twilight-y and yes, tacky.

Or maybe an Asian - redundant.

Or a cartoon character - too childish. And yes, Harry Potter (and everyone else in that movie) is out of the question.

A macho dancer - too lewd and ambitious. Besides, it's too cold outside - my nipples are just sensitive to the temperature. Haha.

Should I wear feathers? Would that be too gay? Leather? S/M anyone?

Or maybe I could go in uniform? Fireman, Police, Navy.... oh sailor moon? Haha.

I don't want to look like an arts and crafts project too. No cardboard, sequins and faux feathers please.

I'm definitely going for the "I-did-not-really-prepare-for-tonight-but-I-still-look-fabulous" look so that removes all possibilities of wearing prosthetics or any other form of make-up.

How about going as an eligible gay guy who's just so full of himself?

Hmmm. No costumes then. I'd go as me.

What do you think?

Conquering Afghanistan

I have always admired Afghans. I have met boys from this country before and I have never stopped imagining being with at least of them. I have stopped imagining. Afghanistan, check.

***

It happened one cold but sunny afternoon. The sun was up and the sky was blue. Everywhere, different shades of copper. I had just finished a quick rendezvous with an Italian which did not work out. His thingie was just pitiful - and I mean sad. Very sad. Blogger's Note: Before you boys start killing yourselves, take note, five is acceptable and anything beyond nine is scary. So there.

He said he was a contractor. Instantly, my libido shot up. I had this amazing impression that all contractors (or carpenters as I'd like to imagine them) are hot - amazingly hard arms, ripped abs and sculptured legs. I was in love. Plus, he's Afghan.

He called when he got to my apartment. I met him up at the lobby. My heart skipped a beat. The world stopped. My dick did the thinking and my man-gina too. He was all that I had imagined him to be sans the carpenter's toolkit. I should have asked him to come in full battle gear - that would have been nice.

"Hi..."

"How was the drive?"

"It was good. How are you Tristan?"

I gave him a flirty smile.

"So would you want anything to drink?"

"What do you have?"

"Beer, soda, juice, milk, coffee?"

"Beer would be nice."

I handed him a Heineken. He took a big gulp. I did the same.

"So how long have lived here?"

"Five months..."

"From where, DC?"

"No, Manila."

"Oh..."

"You?"

"I've lived here for some time now... five years..."

He pulled me closer. His hands were all over.

"This is nice."

"Ha! You ain't seen nothing yet."

"Show me..."

"Don't get too excited."

"So you like it slow, huh?"

"I like it rough."

The alcohol quickly took away all inhibitions - this is why I don't do drugs. And we were off to never never land.

"You like it rough, huh?"

I refused to reply.

"You want this? Tell me bitch."

"Ohhh... you're soooo..."

I felt like a porn star again. But, as always, I delivered.

"Ever been fucked this hard?"

Again, I refused to answer. I did not want to break his ego. He was, after all, delicious enough for a repeat. But he wanted an ego boost. He repeated the question. He wanted to hear that he was the greatest fuck I've had in this lifetime. He wanted me to affirm his manhood - that I was lucky to have him. And that pissed me off.

While it may be true that he ranked on the 90th percentile of all my fucks, I was not ready to be dishonest with myself. In the middle of the game, I looked at him, smiled and said:

"Yes."

And now, he's asked for a repeat to prove himself again.

Now, we go to war.

Hindi Ikaw, Sila

Tumulo na lang sya. Hindi ko na napigilan.

Napaiyak na naman ako.

Kasi naman. Lagi na lang. Bakit kasi.

Hindi ka na natuto.

May nagsabi na sa kin dati. Paulit-ulit lang daw.

Ayan ka na naman. Naniniwala ka dun?

Umayos ka kasi.

Bakit mo ba ginagawa yan?

Sige husgahan nyo 'ko. Pakialam ko?

Wala naman mawawala sa kin.

Magalit kayo. Mandiri. Matakot. Umiwas. Magtago.

Ok lang yan. Sanay na ko.

Kaya ko mag-isa. Ako lang. Wala nang iba.

Sa totoo lang naman, wala naman kasi totoo.

Lahat peke. Plastik. Puro pangako.

Pangakong napako.

Ayan tumutulo na naman. Hindi ko mapigilan.

Masama loob ko e.

Masakit ba? Tama na. Tigil na. Gising na.

Ayan. Ayan na naman.

Tumutulo pa din.

Araw araw. Gabi gabi.

Habang naglalakad. Pauwi. Kahit naliligo. Sa pagktabo.

Hindi nila alam. Hindi kailangan malaman.

Araw araw. Gabi gabi.

Pinipilit lumimot. Gusto ng bagong buhay.

Binalik ang dati. Kulang pa din. Dagdagan natin.

Paulit-ulit nga. Tama sila.

Pokpok daw ako. Oo naman, masarap ako eh.

Kasalanan mo. Yan ang pakilala mo.

Sa kanya. Sa kanila. Sa iba.

Ayan kasi. Ano. Ikaw naman kasi.

Pagod na ko. Ayoko na. Masakit na.

Tigil na. Tahan na. Kaya mo yan.

Ang totoo, hindi nyo ko kilala.

Oo tama ka. Hindi ka lang nila kilala. Malas nila.

Viva Italia (?)

There's always a first time.

"It's now or never...", he said.

I was extremely horny so I typed in: "Come on over..."

"Oh and call me when you're near."

He said he's Italian

And that he's married and has kids

"Yeah right...", as I rolled my eyes again.

I tidied up the place to prep for his cum-ming.

I did not really give a damn who he is or where he comes from

I never even asked for a picture

He said he looked good - I believed him

"Sige na nga, pagbigyan na..."

But I had to be prepared, "what if it does not work out?"

He assured me that it will.

"No one has ever asked me to leave..."

I felt more at ease.

He called me up when he got to the lobby.

"Oh...", I whispered.

"Tama ang gago... gwapo nga sya..."

"Hey, Tristan here... come, follow me."

He walked behind me all the way to the lift.

"So Tristan, what do you think?"

"Think of what?", I asked.

"Me?", he replied.

I looked at him and smiled. He smiled back.

"Viva Italia?", I wanted to tell him.

But I tried to be cool - "We'll see...", my quick reply.

He laughed and pinched my be-hind on the way out.

"Tarantadong to ah... may pagka-manyak."

"Binabastos ako?"

"I love it."

"May future ka, pogi...", I mumbled.

He took off my pants - and then my sweats.

He kissed me on the neck and took my hand.

He guided it where it needed to be.

I took over from there.

My hands were all over.

It tried to look for the prize.

I sighed. It was disappointingly uhmm... petite.

"Bad trip..."

"Hey, am I bothering you?", he asked.

He had read my mind.

"I'm sorry...", was the only thing I was able to say.

He smiled at me and zipped himself up.

"Don't be.", he reassured me.

"It's okay...", he continued.

"It's just that... this won't work...", I tried to explain myself.

"I understand...", he said as he buttoned his shirt.

"There's no need to walk me out.", he said.

"I'll walk you to the lift...", I said.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Tristan..."

"Drive safely..."

There's always a first time

And I chose "now" - wish I had chosen "never"

I was extremely horny and was looking for a big boner

But my dear Italian just made me feel a wee bit sadder.

This Italian did not deliver

So I asked an Afghan to come over - I am glad I did.

And he would be the topic of my next post -

"How Tristan Conquered Afghanistan"

Next Attraction

"Last day today?", I asked.

"Yeah Tristan... it's a very good deal.", I was told.

"Okay... aisle seats all the way - no stop overs please."

I dictated my card details. I checked my email - it's there.

I have it now. All I need to do is wait.

Now the preparations begin

For return of the queen.

I'll see you all in Bed.

The Curse of "Love of Siam"

I have watched Love of Siam twice since I had learned about it last year. I even blogged about the film twice - here and here. Recently, I got hold of an original DVD copy and I just had to watch it again.

***

A few minutes ago, I finished watching the film for the third time. I had intended to blog about it (again) and write a more detailed review of the movie but, after I reviewed my earlier posts, I noticed a developing trend that is directly affecting my love life. Forgive me - the closet-Ekonomista in me is doing the thinking these days.

I remember that four days after watching Love of Siam for the first time (and posting a blog on it), I fell in love with someone. And then I cried... I cried for months. Then, I was able to recover - stronger than ever. As long as there is love there is hope daw.

And so, I watched the film for the second time. Four days later, I fell in love again - much more intense. And then I cried... I cried for months. I cried so hard that I had thought that I would never be able to snap out of it. But, I have recovered - stronger than ever. As long as there is love there is hope daw.

At dahil matigas ang ulo ko (but seriously, this was not intentional), for the third time, I decided to watch this movie again.

***

Love of Siam still had it's charm - gorgeous young boys kissing. It followed the same plot no matter how hard I prayed for a happier ending. It still made me cry on cue - tears still fell as if it were my first time. But, for the first time, I was able to see beyond Tong and Mew. For the first time, I did not get a hard on when they kissed. I finally saw the film the way it was probably intended to be - a love story between and amongst all the characters - and not just between Tong and Mew. It's amazing how one's life experiences can change the way one appreciates a movie such as this.

***

So four days from now, based on past trends and considering how predictable my life has been since forever, I am expecting to fall in love again. Let's see if this forecasting model works.

Four days from now, I will fall in love with my Tong...

...with a very big dong.

... or talong.

One, Two, Three...

So there I was, as usual, on the train to my house in the middle of the trees. It has been a very long day and I had just gotten off from work. I was already tired. I was also trying to pull myself out of the shit hole that I have been in for the longest time. I started to listen to some upbeat songs to make me feel better.

The train was unusually empty (even in the middle of rush hour) and I was able to find myself a seat. I unbuttoned my coat and took out my iPhone - Ces Soirées-là was on loop. I decided to leave it that way. I looked around. There was one white boy on the far end of the train - he was a twinkie - cute enough - but, it was the young Latino who caught my eye.

The boy was seated several feet from where I was - directly across my seat. He wore a white shirt, jeans, a hoody and a red cap. He was slim but I could tell there was a good amount of muscle beneath all that textile. He looked very Filipino - mukhang tambay actually... poging tambay. Perfect. I hid my office badge and coyly looked his way. Our eyes met on my first attempt.

"One, Two, Three...", I silently counted.

I looked away but not without sending a quick half-smile. My heart was beating fast.

"Shit ka Tristan, ang landi mo...", I said to myself.

I tried again. This time, my Latino boy toy was pretending to be asleep. I was finally able to memorize his features. He had a backpack and he looked like a stude. Delicious. But he opened his eyes.

"Patay..."

I felt cold. I looked away.

"Ay naku po... baka masapak ako..."

I discreetly looked his way again but this time, he finally smiled. I breathed a sigh of relief. The train was approaching my stop and I was nowhere close to getting a number. Heck, I was several feet away and all I had was a smile and eye contact. I heard my station's name being announced. I stood up. He didn't.

"Ay shit, ibang stop pa ang gago..."

One final attempt. I looked at him. He looked back. Instead of walking to the door closer to where I was, I took several extra steps to pass by him. My final attempt involved a flirty smile and a quick head gesture suggesting that he steps off the train. I got off the train and did not look back immediately. I was afraid to disappoint myself.

"One, Two, Three...", I counted to myself again.

When I turned around, he was standing behind me. I bit my lips and smiled. We both laughed.

"Hi, my name is Tristan...", I said as I extended my hand.

"Mateo."

And my day felt a lot less shitty thereafter.

Pinoy Big Boner

It was cold outside - really cold and it was raining. It was cold but I was in heat.

"26, Asian, 5'7, 125lbs, looking for some action tonight...", says his ad.

I was interested. I took a quick guess - Chinese, Vietnamese, Thai. But, my gut is telling me he was a Pinoy. With a hunch and exquisite typing skills, I drafted a quick note and pondered on what picture to attach. Blame it on the booze that I had earlier that night, I felt a little gutsy. I finally decided to send an uncovered me (Blogger's Note: yes, mamatay kayo sa inggit! haha).

I heard my email tone a few minutes later.

"Jakcpot!", I replied.

There before me was a picture - hmm... I was excited. I drafted another email, attached a more wholesome picture and a note asking for his location and whether he would be willing to brave the cold and rain and come to my place for a random encounter.

Silence.

"Shit, bokya ata...", I was worried.

But my hunch was really strong. He actually looked Filipino but I was still uncertain - he may be Malaysian or Thai? My EQ went down the drain. I decided to send another one-liner.

"By any chance, are you Filipino?"

Finally an email came through.

"Yeah..., you?", he replied.

I wanted him more. I sent him a number.

"Call me, let's talk."

He called.

"Pucha, slang...", I mumbled.

"How long have you lived here?", I asked.

"Since 95...", he replied.

And a few more of the pleasantries. But, I could feel hesitation from his end - apparently, my place is a good 40-minute drive from where he lived. I rolled my eyes.

"Langya naman o...", I mumbled.

I am the sweetest talker when I am most horny. The poor boy did not have a chance - he did not realize what would hit him in the next few minutes.

"Patay ka sa kin bata ka...", I whispered.

Just as I expected, a few minutes later, he was on the way.

"Haha... Pinoy boys are so predictable..."

When he got to my apartment, I handed him a car pass. He parked. He was silent. He remained silent all the way to my apartment. His hands in his pocket. I tried to make him comfortable. He was stiff - and not in a good way. I was a little disappointed.

"Hay naku, kahit kelan talaga - maarte ang Pinoy.", I whispered.

I took charge. I think that's what he wanted.

"Oh...", I gasped.

It was a very happy surprise.

Blogger's Note: Not too long ago, a very charming blogger asked me to confirm if US-born/bred Pinoys really do have bigger dickies than their local counterparts. I gave him my expert opinion based on my own studies. And now, recent evidence suggests that my earlier findings are still accurate - my latest conquest is most definitely a Pinoy Big Boner.

Adik

Oist Adik, remember the day you said goodbye? You had wanted to see me before I left for the states but my schedule was always crazy. A couple of days before I left, we finally agreed to meet. It was the day I found out your real name - the hotel's front desk had just called me a few minutes earlier telling me that you were at the lobby, waiting to be let in.

A few minutes later, you were at my door. I can still remember how you smiled - you like showing your teeth. But then, I saw your eyes mist up.

"Adik, mamimiss kita...", you finally said.

"Adik, naiiyak ako pucha...", you continued.

"Ano ka ba? Bawal umiyak.", I replied.

You said it was tough for you to see me go since I was, after all. your only regular FB. What you did not know was that it was tough for me too - you were my favorite FB (at least that's what I say to everyone. Haha). But seriously, you were one of my favorites - my trusty FB who stayed with me through thick and thin - in good times and in bad - threesomes and all that - until we run out of condoms. You have been with me for four years and that's even a longer span of time than all of my relationships combined.

That day, you finally told me who you were - where you went to school - what you did - where you lived - what you are. It was only then that I had known the real you - the one you deliberately hid from me for years. All my hunches were correct - matalino ka nga talagang tao. It has crossed my mind that we could have been good together but every time one of us brings it up, we'd always find ourselves rationalizing why it was not a good idea. At the most, we'd always end up agreeing that we're better off as friends.

"Wag natin sirain ang moment by having sex...", you suggested.

"Ayoko nga. Aalis na nga lang ako, wala pang sex.", I said.

We laughed.

"And I'm sure tinitigasan ka na... manyak ka eh.", I continued.

I was right.

"So san tayo?", you asked.

I led the way. It was destined to be the most memorable fuck we'd ever have. That night, we kissed for the first time - and it was perfect.

"Ayan ah, may kiss na...", you said.

And that made me giggle almost to the point of losing my erection.

"Hindi naman kailangan e.", I said.

"Wala lang...", you replied.

The marathon took a while. It was fun.

"Oist adik...", you said as I was dressing up.

"May ibibigay ako sa yo ah... paborito ko to ah...", you explained.

"Ano yun?", I asked.

You handed me a scarf. You told me that this should keep me warm during the first few days of fall and winter and that I should think of you when I wear it.

"Adik, pa-picture ka pag suot mo to ah...", you told me.

I was my turn to get teary-eyed.

"Oo naman... lika nga dito...", I said as I gave him a hug.

"Tama na adik, papaiyakin mo ko eh.. basta wag mo ko kalimutan ah...", he finally said as we let go.

Adik was texting me until I boarded the plane. We kept in touch even when I got here. The last time we spoke, he had told me that he had been sexless since I left, by choice. He wanted to go straight. Ayaw daw nya kung kani-kanino lang. Ang ganda ko. Haha.

While I was in New York over the weekend, I finally got the chance to wear the scarf that he gave me. And yes, I remembered Adik. Tinigasan ako, actually. Haha. But beyond that, I felt a little sad. I haven't heard from Adik since the Ondoy flood - he lives in Pasig and I am pretty sure that his place was affected. I have tried calling him; even sent several messages but he has not responded yet. Sadly, no one knows of us so I am clueless how to get through to him. I wish he's doing ok.

"Oist adik - eto na picture o..."

Naked Boys Singing

I have already posted some vay-cay pictures on Facebook which should give some of you an idea of what I have been up to the last few days. But one question remains unanswered, did I ever get to watch a show on Broadway?

Of course, I did. Why shouldn't I?

But how can I even possibly start explaining to family and clueless friends why I chose to watch Naked Boys Singing? And yes, there were eight naked - boys - singing.

Needless to say, I loved the show. It was white dick overload - two hours of it - para lang akong nasa gym. Haha.

Oh No!

I am typing this while I am on the bus en route to New York.

Earlier today, I tried to write something smart - I had to while away my time. But, I seemed to have run out of things write about. I tried to type in a few words and then found myself deleting them - they never made sense. So I went to sleep instead.

It was a restful sleep.

But, I dreamt of you. Again. This time, it was more vivid - it was as if I could see you; that I was with you.

Something happened. I think, we were somewhere - maybe it was in New York. It was winter. It was a promise. I was crying - loudly, hysterically, and, of course, dramatically.

When I woke up, I was still on the bus and, of course, you were not there. And then I remembered the dream - I shivered.

Now I find it comforting that you, along with everything else about you, are just a dream; a happy coincidence, an imagined reality; untrue. Good thing, I don't know you otherwise, I may just as well find myself crying for real - loudly, hysterically, and, of course, dramatically.

In my dream, you died in my arms.

I killed you. Haha.

I Still Remember

I still think of you from time to time

Especially at night

Nights, much like the one I'm having now

Shit, I miss you... I really do - where forth art thou?

But we now have lives to live

And strangers we have already become

We had something then - how long ago has it been?

Everything's just a distant memory - help me

As I close my eyes tonight

I will think of you once more

And I will try to recall how it once was - you and I

Before things had to change - something had to die

No, I don't do love poems - not anymore

I have outgrown many things - including love - it's out the door

So if you are expecting this poem to come with a heart

Skip this - the next one's the pokpok part

Yes, tonight I am just in the mood

And I suddenly remembered my FB and his uhmm uhmm-mood.

So let me think of you dear FB - and how it once was

I just need to get off - come help me - I'm in a rush

Tol, Pa-kiss sa Itlog

Friends, lovers, countrymen, lend me your ears... err... eyes.

Commercial muna tayo on Tristan Tales dahil naka-bakasyon ang lolo nyo. Anyway highway skyway, to those who are interested in male pageants, here's something for you to look forward to - Mr. Gay World 2009 on October 25. Click here for details.

There are nineteen contestants pero personally, eto ang bet ko - si Number 8: Venn Macadangdang, the Fitness Jetsetter. Fitness na, Jetsetter pa. Panalo. Pili na lang kayo ng senyo.

Tol, pa-kiss naman sa itlog - walang malisya - promise. Haha.

It's All About Control

I remember you drove a Jeep and yes, you were one of the first ones who responded to a booty call. It has been a month since I had arrived in the States and I have managed to keep my self sexless since - no-nothing. In fact, at that point, I felt that I had already forgotten how things worked in bed. But still, I had to take a chance - I had to - I needed to - I did.

I looked at your picture and I was satisfied. You were a little rough for my taste - a true blue American man - plaid shirt and all - but what the heck, I was in heat. I needed my fix and you were there - willing, able and more importantly, nearby. You said you'd be coming over from work and that we should hang out. I agreed. A few minutes later, you had already parked your car outside my building, along the main road. You then gave me a call. I picked up and started walking to meet you - I was ready. I took a quick inventory.

"Breath, check. Hair, check. Condoms, check."

I saw you for the first time - your picture did not do you justice. The plaid shirt aged you - you were not the guy on the picture - I was glad. I needed to act cool - I casually said hi. You greeted me back. You seemed nice contrary to the image your picture projected - I liked it. You were, after all, my first DC encounter. You barely knew it but you were selected for a reason - I needed you to be my "buena mano". You had to be good - really good,

"Come...", you said as you invited me in your car.

I did not hesitate but I was nervous. I was scared but you'd never see it in my eyes. I was perfectly in control. The pokpok in me was in full gear.

"So where are we going?"

"Just around the block...", you said.

My heart started pounding. I felt your hands on my legs, slowly working its way up.

"Puta...", I whispered.

I removed your hands.

"Hey, drive - this can wait.", I ordered him.

He loved it. I guess he needed a dom (read:dominant). I had myself a slave.

"I can play this game...", I murmured.

He parked the car by the curb. We had reached a lot by the street that was gated - the sun had just set. I was beginning to feel the evening chill. The trees were dark and dreary - the perfect setting for a scary movie. I felt his hand slide up my thighs again.

"Here?", I asked.

He smiled.

"No, not here."

He was puzzled. I stepped out of the car. He did too.

"Follow me.", I ordered.

My slave did as he was told. We finally reached a clearing not too far from where we parked. There were trees everywhere - it was already getting dark - and no one was around. There was a house a mile away - but it was empty.

"Here.", I said.

I took my place behind a tree. He pushed himself against me - tried to kiss.

"No. I don't kiss."

He was persistent. I felt my pants drop.

"Tangna..."

It was liberating. It was empowering. It was good.

That day, the world became a better place.

The first world knelt for the third, twice.

The third never did.

The Return of the Rainbow

So much has happened since I started blogging - you've read them all on this site. But now, I am no longer happy with what this blog has become - it has become soft - ultra emotional - it has become someone else's blog. So I'd like to bring back the old Tristan Tales and I am starting with the return of my very first banner.

The rainbow will shine again and this time, expect to see hues beyond your wildest imagination. Back are days of the unaffected Tristan - unscathed by love, disillusioned by realities, jaded by life. Expect sex tales - lots of it and yes, it's international. Nothing is holding me back now - I am no longer trying to impress - I have had enough.

Hi, my name is Tristan - fancy a fuck?

I Found the Answer on the Train

I was on the train this morning when this beautiful creature standing before me caught my eye. He was tall, blonde and nicely built and he was wearing a suit. His eyes were green - eyes pa lang, nakakapanglambot na. Haaay. I closed my eyes and whispered a silent prayer.

"Dear Lord, kahit eto na lang boyfriend ko... ok na... hindi naman po ako choosy."

And then I smiled. He probably thought that I was smiling at him (or maybe he thought I was crazy) because he smiled back.

"Digital naman pala ang prayers ngayon...", I whispered again.

I smized.

"Puta Tyra, salamat."

The boy toy incident this morning made me wonder - bakit ang hirap humanap ng true love? I looked at the boy before me and I somehow found the answer.

Maarte kasi ako. Ako ay maarte. Yes, I am maarte.

The boytoy before me is gwapo, ganda katawan, mukhang may pinag-aralan pero baka maliit ang titi nito (but I doubt, I scanned his crotch, hehe) or baka may anghit. I might also drop him like a hot patatas if he turns out to be bobo pala or walang sense of Homer. See, pwede na nga hinahanapan pa ng flaws? Hay naku!

Mataas ba ang standards ko? Siguro. Don't get me wrong - there's nothing bad about having standards. So Tristan, don't blame the heavens for being single - wag ka nang magtaka - single ka kasi maarte ka at mataas ang standards mo - mamatay ka sa lamig ng pasko. There.

I won't ask the stars na for true love, pagod na ko. It might be impossible for me to find that one person who would meet my standards and would love me back. In the meantime, I will try to figure out the traits that I can just let go of - I will try to get to know myself more. Baka sakali.

Sige na nga Lord, sisimplehan ko na lang ang requirements ko - para naman kahit papano, maging masaya na ko. Malapit pa naman mag-Pasko.

I looked up the sky and made one final suggestion.

Si Piolo na lang po. Pwede?

iPhone Chronicles

Lately, I have noticed that it has become increasingly difficult to post things on this site. No single event warrants a full blog post and this is probably why I found it better to microblog on certain things and topics that catches my fancy. Anyway, it's so micro that I am blogging from my iPhone and I am calling this, my iPhone Chronicles.

It is now almost 3pm on a Sunday and I am waiting for a couple of friends to finish shopping. Well, more of grocery-ing. I'm standing outside this big Chinese supermarket a few miles from where we live. I had planned on getting a haircut in time for my New York (or as the alta says, Nu Yok) trip next week but instead I was dragged to do a Vietnamese buffet for lunch and now this. I am ultra bored and my hair has, I guess, grown another micromillimeter since this morning. Ugh.

Anyway, this is fun.

I saw this cute Chinese guy shopping earlier. Shempre dahil Pogi, I followed him around. I seriously had no plans of shopping so I had to make the most of my time. I flirted a little. I flirted a lot. Puta, wa epek. Yun pala, lo and behold, may jowa. Yes my dear, the only cute guy in the supermarket is off the market. And in fairness, di kagwapuhan ang boyfriend - it must be true love. Or maybe, the other guy has a humongous dick. Oh well.

So I turned my attention to other things - like the upo. Yes, may upo. Then talong - the very long talong. Then the patola - ooh la la. But still, my mind had been perverted by the cute Chinese boy with a not-so-gwapo jowa. No vegetable can ever catch my fancy - not while he's around.

So I did what any self-respecting pokpok would do. I stepped out of the supermarket, took out my iPhone and asked for the bagger boy's name and number.

Mission accomplished.

Blogger's Note: The bagger boy was on break. He was smoking and I, I was bored.

Tristan's Song II

Married Guy Needs Help

I was looking online for a possible hook up to jump start my three-day weekend when I stumbled upon this letter in my friendly neighborhood hook up site. The title was already a little off - "Lost Item - Help" but, still, I read it out of sheer curiosity.

Cruel as it may seem, I found myself laughing halfway through his letter. I am even giggling just typing this post. But seriously, I would love to help out but, much like the letter sender, I am out of creative ideas. So, I am reposting his letter to get some creative suggestions from you guys - my dear readers. I invite you to read his letter and be amused but please, help him by leaving a comment.

Cheers, T

***********

I'm mortified/petrified. I was in the sauna at the gym, middle of the afternoon and completely dead. I brought a small bottle of hand lotion with me and was rubbing it on my legs. As I got up towards my privates I squirted some more on and it spilled and ran down between my legs. I kinda chased it down to my butt hole. For whatever reason, I started massaging my butt hole. I got turned on and had a erection. This really surpised me. I added more lotion, put my foot up on the bench and then went to squeeze some lotion directly onto my butt. As I pressed the little neck of the bottle to my hole, my foot slipped off the bench and the bottle went about halfway into my ass. It hurt but when I jumped up to pull it out I had an instant orgasm. Another surprise. The plastic bottle slid the rest of the way in and my butt closed around it.

I had the sudden urge to take a dump so I ran throught the locker room and took a major dump. It was loose but kinda shot out of me with some force. I looked but didn't see the little plastic bottle. I grabbed a comb and came back and tried to poke around the toilet to be sure the bottle had come out too but couldn't find it.

So I'm worried. My butts a little sore. It just happened about two hours ago. I think the soreness is from the suddenness of the bottle pushing into my butt. I've tried to take another dump to see if the bottle could still be there and might come out but I've had no luck with the dump or the bottle.

I tried not worry, ran on the treadmill for 32 minutes like usual -- can't feel anything. I put some liquid soap on my finger and pushed it in as far as it would go but again didn't feel anything.

I'm back home now and tried to research the problem. I've read about people needing surgery to have items removed, and that a lot of items come out by themselves.

I'm 45, married, excerise regularly. I've never done anything even close to this before. The item was a small plastic hand lotion bottle from a fancy hotel. The top was off and it was half filled with the lotion I didn't use. It's about 3 inches by 1 inch wide -- same width - top and bottom. Like I said, I can't feel it and want to think it came out earlier...but since I didn't see it I'm not sure.

I can't even begin thinking about explaining this to my primary care doctor.

Do you think it shot out after the first dump or will pass by itself?

Would I feel it if it was still there??

Anything I should watch for in case its still there? Any symptoms to be aware of?

I'm sure I'll get a lot of stupid nasty responses....but if anyone has some real advice I'd appreciate it.