Supporters and Sex

I can't seem to blog about anything since I'm so excited in getting my laptop this December 9. I'm trying to save all the good ideas till then. Haha I just constantly imagine myself staying up late, blogging, recording new songs, making podcasts, doing some video blogs, creating digital artworks and editing pictures, augh! the list is simply endless. I mean, I know I'll get tired after all those unimportant things, but I have this attitude of mingling on every feature of a product the first time I get my hands on it. Just like years ago when I got a brand new Nokia 6260. I stayed up till dawn just to play with it and take pictures of myself, I kept on using the GPRS with no intentions of downloading anything, twisted the phone ever so carefully every single time, aahhh... those were the days.

So anyways, for now, I'll just post about what happened earlier this afternoon.

After selecting a new dining table and eating a late lunch at McDonalds, we went to the department store and browsed for sale items we could buy.

I happen to pass by the undergarments section and saw these great boxer briefs with a hand print on each butt cheek. But seriously, do I want hand prints on my butt to begin with? I mean, it's a great idea for design, but in reality, I don't think any respectable Dagupenyo would be caught dead wearing it.

Moving on...

When my mom followed, I pointed to a pair of black Walker supporters and asked her to buy it. Out of freaking nowhere, she suddenly grabbed my hand and whispered: "Baka ikaw nakikipag-contact ka kay Chris magkasakit ka ah." (I don't want to translate since just the thought of her saying that still pisses my last nerve!) She should never assume that Chris has AIDS. For I could be the bearer of the disease (but I don't have AIDS and neither has Chris, just to be clear) and had passed it to him. Never be a judgy-wudgy mother!

I've always wanted to try wearing supporters. I may not have a big dick to support in the first place but who could stop me? The thought of a breezy behind is just what I need when I wear my skinny jeans. Coz seriously, a tight underwear is the last thing you'll ever need with skimpy denims.

I don't know if it's the idea of my ass hole being exposed that gave my mom the idea that wearing supporters screams: "FUCK ME HARD!", but it wasn't my intention at all.

Yes, Chris and I are making love (yes, it's not just an act done out of lust) and there's nothing wrong with that. We are both madly in love and we have no sexual contact with anyone else other than the two of us which makes us free from any disease my mom has in mind.

Safe sex. We are always safe! We make love without the use of handcuffs, sex swings, nor are we fans of bondage. But kidding aside, WE BOTH KNOW WHAT WE'RE DOING! We know that certain behaviors lead to disasters and believe me, we want to live longer. We wouldn't do anything that could give us diseases.

With all that said, it's clear I didn't get the supporter. Maybe I'll just pass on this and move on to thongs! Yihee!

For my mom's reaction on that one, I'll reserve it for another entry.

Over and Out!

7 and stronger!

Happy 7th monthsary to my beloved partner in life, Christian Gamboa!

I may have taken you for granted, but I am doing my best to make up for all my shortcomings.

I enjoyed dinner yesterday, hope you did as well.

Are we really fighting for acceptance?

To get my mind off over the whole break up thing, I want to post an entry that I've long kept in my thoughts, so better release it now.

I remember the first time ever reading the word bimale. It was on a local chat room on television and my brother was with me. I asked him what it was and neither of us knew the answer. Later on, I interacted with the person who apparently had his number posted as well. I asked him what it meant and he said, "silahis, lalaki may gusto sa kapwa lalaki" (Basically, it's a guy wanting a guy as well).

That same day, my vocabulary was introduced to several more terms I never thought existed. Bisexual, Tripper, Transgender, Transvestite, Discreet, Blatant, and the likes. It was a rainbow spectrum of personalities and I was having a difficult time digesting everything all at the same time.

As the year passed, I finally got my questions answered, my words strongly defined, and my mind at ease knowing that in that gray area, my entirety belongs.

But with that came conflicts, misunderstandings, and unending arguments. Some find it a disorder, others a shame. Not everyone seemed to have the open mind like I do, like we do.

I remember this great movie, wherein mutants live amongst humans. In the last part of the trilogy, a "cure" was found for the mutants. But not all of them were happy about it. Because for them, being a mutant wasn't a disease that needed treatment.

That is the kind of life homosexuals live.

We are all a part of this place we call Earth, and individuality sets us apart from other animals. The uniqueness we are endowed with is a matter of choice. The choice to whether embrace it, or the choice to hide it from shallow society cliches.

The thought of being labeled, called with derogatory terms, discriminated, is wrecking. What's worse? We are even discriminated by those who are among us. So where do we stand now? Let's ask ourselves constantly with this question: "Are we really fighting for acceptance?". If so, let us start within ourselves. For no one would believe that we want to be accepted, if the fault is committed by those who are fighting for such justice.

I have long fought for who I am, who I want to be, and the rights I should be given. Only to realize in the end, that we shouldn't be fighting to justify who we are. We are what we are, and no one could put us in a category of mavericks.

Nothing is wrong with us! There's something wrong with YOU! For not being able to understand the world's inevitable growing qualities.

Today, I have decided where all this is going, and in the end, WE are to succeed. I proudly shout and say: "BAKLA AKO! MAY REKLAMO?"

*thank you to AJ Matela for giving me the courage to put myself out there with no doubts and hesitations. Your tag line made me realize that no one could ever be in a position to define who we are.

For my one true miracle:

I've always kept spoken or written words said to me by my baby private, but I just have to share to the world the text message he sent me last night:

Happy 6th monthsary bhe! Thanks for being so kind to me and for changing for the better. Bawasan mo lang pagkarisky mo sa health ha. be cautious. Anyway, you've changed a lot for just 6 months. I am proud of you. Love you my angel! Pataba ka nga kasi payat payat mo na. Hehe Rest well and eat well ok.

I love you my angel! And nothing in this world could ever separate us! Mwah!

Over and Out!

Karaoke once again, Color me hair, Faux Armani

Me and my baby wanted to splurge on ourselves since our money always seems to go on food and karaoke. We've been planning to get our coif done and finally, we had the time to do it together.

This entry is sooooo gonna be filled with pictures I just know it...

First we went to the City Mall to do the never-go-anywhere-without-doing-it, KARAOKE!









Then we were off to the salon where my baby has been getting his hair dyed. It was a house/canteen/walk-in salon.

Whenever I get my hair done I just love how long it takes for services to be finished, it gives me the feeling that time is being spent to achieve a fabuleux outcome.








After about 3 and a half hours of killing our roots, I was officially Mr. Chocolate head and my baby is Mr. Carrot Top! harhar (kidding!)

My baby has been complaining lately of his stressed eyes so we went to an optometrist to buy brand new eyewear for UV protection a.k.a. his computer. He looks silly in this geeky apparatus, don't you think?

And last but not the least, as if we haven't splurged enough, we saw faux Armani sunglasses and we just have to get the last two pairs that were on the stand.
Hello Giorgio? We could use the real deal here, just send it over. Thanks!








Over and Out!