Friday, December 31, 2010

When The Kingdom Falls


"So this is it. You're off on your trip," V said while I was packing my clothes. I was running late for my flight and was hastily grabbing things from my closet.

"It's just going to be for a while," I replied. "So which pair of shades should I bring: this one or this?" V pointed to the purple-colored pair of shades. "Christian, of course." He lighted a cigarette and puffed.

I put it on and looked at myself in the mirror. I tilted my head sideways. It does look good on me.

"Besides V, I need some time to think. It's been a crazy year no? I haven't exactly been on my best behavior and people have noticed. And what's worse, some of them are actually upset. Whew."

"You haven't been exactly discrete about it, but come on. It doesn't matter. These people don't really know you," V replied. "But yeah, so much for honesty in writing. Turns out not everyone can handle the truth."

"I know! You know, ang tanda ko na (I am old) and at my age I still get surprised how judgmental people can get. Do they even know the whole story?" I said. I was referring to the story about Ron. That elicited reactions from a lot of people. Many got angry and some of their comments were craftily written attacks against me.

"Do they know that Ron has been badgering me to meet and have sex, and when I finally did, I'm still the bad guy. It's not like I forced him, more like I forced myself. And he obviously enjoyed it since he's been pestering me to meet again."

"Well, people will be people. And what you said stirred insecurities and forced everyone to acknowledge that the world is not fair. Yes, we all act nice to each other and act like we're all equals but we're not. Some of us are more beautiful than others. That's just the way it is."

I stopped folding my shirts and looked at V. "Really? Is that the way it is?"

"Honey, since we were little girls we both knew that. And so we learned to work with what God has given us. We may not be the most good looking people on the planet, fuck, not even in Manila, but we learned to work with our markets. We know eaxctly who we can get and who we can't."

I smiled mischievously at V. “Who we can’t?”

“Well, you are a special case. What can I say? You like pushing boundaries,” he replied.

“Hahahaha. Gago (Fucker).”

“You know, I wanted to comment on that entry of yours.”

“And what were you going to say?” I said.

Of all people, I should be the one who should be upset. My best friend just had sex with a fatty!!!!

We both started laughing uncontrollably.

“Gaga ka talaga (You’re such an ass). If you do that, everyone will think we’re mean girls,” I said.

“Oh wow, talk about being mean. Just look at what some of them said in your blog,” V replied.

"But that's the thing. Sometimes I think … my public image … what's that exactly? Binge drinker, party girl, mean girl, slut?"

"Honey, you don't need to explain yourself to others."

"I know. But still… I need to figure out how somewhere along the way I turned into a dirty little whore from a respectable housewife," I said and chuckled. "I kinda miss being a housewife, you know."

"Sooo... does this mean you won't be flirting while on vacation?"

I shook my head and smiled. "It's family time," I said.

V stared at me disbelievingly, with a knowing look.

"Well… okay, okay. I can't promise, but I'll try," I said, and again we both laughed uncontrollably.

The buzzer rang and I picked it up.

"Honey, the time for our parting has arrived. The cab's ready to take me to the airport," I said. "I will miss you."

I hugged him tightly. "I wish we can be together this Christmas."

"Me too. Be good okay?" V replied. "And remember, you're Kane. People don't tell you who you are. You tell them."


Tuesday, December 28, 2010

(500) Days

Last year, we had (500) Days of Summer.

But summer is gone. Welcome to (500) Days of Winter.


Saturday, December 25, 2010

Gossip Girl: Farewell K

Hey Upper East Siders! The holidays have finally caught up with me but before I leave to celebrate, I'd like to leave you all with one last piece of dirt.

I spy with my many eyes Kane at the airport, bags in hand, slipping out on Christmas Eve. Where is he going? Why did he leave? Word is the kingdom rebelled and the Queen has been sent on exile. Abandoned by friends and frenemies alike, it looks like Golden Boy just became Lonely Boy.

But the real question is: now that the Queen is away, will the mice play? Behave you little rodents. Remember: if you kiss... I tell.



Thursday, December 16, 2010

Gossip Girl: The Gift That Keeps on Giving


Rise and shine, Gossips! Hear those silver bells? It's Christmas time in the city. And in the Upper East Side, it only means two things: gifts and lots of surprises.

We hear this year the Queen is feeling extra generous.

Spotted: Kane doing the nasty with a fatty. What happened to standards K? Wonder what people will say once they find out you've gone chub chasing. Or have you become ... what's the word ... free for all?

When the leaves start to turn and the breeze becomes chilly, I know it's time for my good deed of the year. Long ago, a wise older gay friend told me to invest in good karma and once a year have sex with any one of the following:

1) Someone ugly
2) Someone fat
3) Someone old
4) Someone all of the above

"We all become one of them someday," he said. "But since you're a pretty little thing, you'll never be ugly. Just fat or old. And when that time comes, may God have mercy on you. You'd be praying some cute boy will still have sex with someone like you."

Does God work that way, I wondered? That He'd trade good fortune in return for sexual favors?

I've always chosen ugly or old. But this year, I was feeling a little adventurous and decided to hook up with someone fat.

Wow, I thought when I saw him. He really is big.

Ron told me he was a little chubby, but that was an understatement. He had twice my mass in all the wrong places, if you know what I mean ladies.

I laid out to him the rules of the play. I am not going to be naked. I am just going to unzip. There will ne no kissing nor foreplay. I won't touch, much less suck his dick. When I finished, I saw a look of quiet defeat settle on his face.

He knew. He understood. My terms or nothing... and since the chances of someone like me having sex with someone like him is close to zero, he took it.

But since the holidays were making me feel warm, fuzzy, and charitable, I offered to let him suck on my cock.

"Sige. Chupain mo na (Go on, suck on it)," I said and closed my eyes.

And he did.

Happy holidays everyone! Hope you all get the gift you deserve.


Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Gossip Girl: Bed Aftermath Part 2

I woke up Sunday morning with a massive headache.

I was trying to recall what happened last night when I realized I wasn't alone. Why are there five people in my bed?

Oh shit. Not another Serena moment.

"Oh yes, it was. You passed out in the middle of the club," V said over late lunch. "On the ledge where everyone was staring at you. Classic K."

"Oh God, I don't even remember it. So what happened?"

"Grabe honey, there was a screamfest in the middle of Malate earlier. It was 6 a.m. already and Arlan and I were shouting at you. 'Kane!!! Halika na!!!! Umuwi na tayo!!!' (Kane!!! Come on!!! Let's go!!!)"

"Pero ayaw kang paawat eh (But you couldn't be stopped)," V continued. "May hinaharot ka pang lalaki at talagang hinila mo na lang siya sa loob ng taxi. (You were flirting with a guy and you grabbed him and pulled him inside the cab.)"


"And then, siguro naisip ni Arlan na 'Tekaaaa!!!! Alangan naman paghahati-hatian natin ang isang ito'. So bigla siyang lumabas ng taxi at humila pa siya ng isa pang lalaki. (Arlan was probably thinking 'Wait a minute, we're not going to share just one guy' so he got out of the cab and grabbed another.)"

"WTFFFFFF!!! Hahahha God, did people see?"

"Of course they did. It was already morning and people were having breakfast."

"I hate it. It's soooo… public," I said. "Now people will think we're that kind of girls."

"You and Arlan are the kind who pass out, grab random strangers and bring them home," V said. "I'm the kind who revives her Pretty Fucking Wasted friends."

"Hahahaha. Fuck off. I'm not!"

"Uh. Have you forgotten Sunday night? When you were spotted with some skinhead guy?"

"Oh... Was that just last Sunday? But you can be just as bad! And you know that!"

I massaged my head and picked at the food. I wasn't really hungry but I knew I had to eat.

For the first time in a long time, my girls and I were together. Glenn and Arlan were in town, Vackie had gotten back in my good graces and had been called out of exile, and Carlo decided to come even if he was sick.

Thinking of Saturday night still gives me an endorphin rush. It was just so fun, one of those nights you wish would never end. Time, please be still.

"Grabe honey, it's really fun when Arlan is here. It's like we just explode, you know… lose yourself in the moment completely," I said.

Arlan flew back to China last night. I already miss him. All that's left are memories... and a photo.
Four wise men once said, "I get by with a little help from my friends". But in the Upper East Side, some friends come with benefits.



Monday, December 13, 2010

Gossip Girl: Bed Aftermath Part 1

Morning, Upper East Siders. Hope you all had a good night's sleep. Or at least a good night's play. Are you ready for your dish?

Spotted: Kane and his troops storming the walls of Castle Bed. But as with every war, there are always casualties.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but I think three letters are enough to adequately describe this photo.


Looks like the party was a smash K. Or, at least you were.



Thursday, December 09, 2010

Gossip Girl: Bed Opening Party


While Upper East Siders were hitting the snooze button, Kane had a rude awakening when the rooster crowed at dawn this morning.

"Did you get an invite for Bed's opening party this weekend?" Carlo asked me.

"What do you mean? It's opening next weekend, right?"

"Apparently, there's a strictly by-invitation-only party this Saturday for their VIPs. It's supposed to be hush hush. The public launch is next weekend. And I guess this means we're off the list."

"What? You mean we're not invited?" I was fully awake by now.

"Bed apparently is limiting their VIP list and removed some names," Carlo explained.

"And they removed our names? Are they kidding? WTF? I'm Jenny fucking Humphrey all over again?" I was getting upset. "God! Do I have to plot and scheme all over again just to get in the list … again?"

Poor K. Doesn't he know the rules by now? When you're not on the list, don't get mad… Get in.

I immediatetely called V after.

"Honey, Bed's throwing an exclusive party for their VIPs and apparently, we're not invited," I said.


"But don't worry. I already made arrangements."

We both laughed.

"Of course you did," V said. "Don't they know? The best parties to go to are the ones where you're not invited."

Watch out Upper East Siders. Looks like our girls are making a heroic entrance. But then again, forget a grand entrance.  Everyone knows it's the exit they'll remember.


Tuesday, December 07, 2010

The Story of a Marriage

"Perhaps you cannot see a marriage. Like those giant heavenly bodies invisible to the human eye, it can only be charted by its gravity, its pull on everything around it. That is how I think of it. That I must look at everything around it, all the hidden stories, the unseen parts, so that somewhere in the middle — turning like a dark star — it will reveal itself at last."
---"The Story of a Marriage", Andrew Sean Greer

"Mommy, how are you?"
"Uy, anak. Ikaw pala yan. Mabuti. Ikaw kamusta? (Oh, it's you my son. I'm good. How are you?)"

It was nighttime in America. I suddenly missed my mom so I called her at her work at the nursing home. I wanted to chat a bit before I sleep.

"I'm good. O, 11 na ah. Susunduin ka na ng asawa mo (It's almost 11. Your husband will be fetching you soon)," I teased her.

"Ay. Oo nga. Yang Daddy mo talaga Kane, talagang every night andiyan talaga siya para sunduin ako. Favorite talaga ako niyan. (Oh, you're right. You know Kane... your Dad, he's really there every night to fetch me. I'm really his favorite.)"

She laughed and I heard the genuine pleasure in her voice.

"Sabi ko nga sa kanya, malapit lang naman ang bahay. Kaya ko ng lakarin para makapag rest na siya. Pero gusto pa rin niya ako sinusundo. Ay teka, andiyan na siya. O mag ingat ka lagi ha. I love you (I keep telling him the house is near and I can just walk home pero he insists on fetching me from work. Oh wait, got to go. He's here. Take care always. I love you)," my mom said.

"I love you too Mom. Give Dad my love."

My mom and dad live in a small apartment in Los Angeles. They have been married 31 years. My sister moved in with her boyfriend last year and they have become closer since then. I guess as what people say, it's like a second marriage.

"Yang mommy mo at ako, talagang 'til death do us part kami," Dad told me a few months ago during one of our conversations.

My dad arrives home much earlier than mom who has two jobs. Ssometimes he would fall asleep at the couch while watching TV but he makes sure he wakes up to fetch mom.

Sometimes I think of their nightly ritual and what it means for them. Perhaps for Dad, it's a daily gesture of his love for Mom. He's there ... every night for the past eight years an hour before midnight. Whether it's summer or fall. Winter or spring. There were days he wasn't feeling well. Or had a bad day at work. Or was simply tired.

But he always shows up.


Friday, December 03, 2010



When writers write, they think they're just telling a story. How my lover cheated on me. How much I love my grandmother. How boring work is. But what we don't realize is that the stories we tell about who we are may define who we become.

Life stories, by their very nature, are a retrospective reconstruction. We all have different versions of the same story. My friends and I attended a party once and the next day, when I asked them to tell me what happened, it turns out we all remembered things differently.

Or, I'd ask people to discuss a film and they'd say they like it or dislike it for different things. It was the same film but what was significant for one was trivial to another.

In a New York Times article titled "This Is Your Life (and How You Tell It)" published in 2007, researchers discovered there was a strong correlation between the content of a person's life and the stories he/she tells.

Those with mood problems have many good memories, but these scenes are usually tainted by some dark detail. The pride of college graduation is spoiled when a friend makes a cutting remark. The wedding party was wonderful until the best man collapsed from drink. A note of disappointment seems to close each narrative phrase.

By contrast, so-called generative adults — those who score highly on tests measuring civic-mindedness, and who are likely to be energetic and involved — tend to see many of the events in their life in the reverse order, as linked by themes of redemption. They flunked sixth grade but met a wonderful counselor and made honor roll in seventh. They were laid low by divorce, only to meet a wonderful new partner. Often, too, they say they felt singled out from very early in life — protected, even as others nearby suffered.

The research argues that "narrative themes are, as any other trait, driving factors in people's behavior."

“We find that when it comes to the big choices people make — Should I marry this person? Should I take this job? Should I move across the country? — they draw on these stories implicitly, whether they know they are working from them or not,” Dr. McAdams said.

When I read personal blogs or stories, I tend to create an image in my mind of who the writer is. Oftentimes, it is how the writer perceived himself as an actor in the story.

The writer could be talking of a heartache; which is quite common in personal blogs. Does he portray himself as kawawa (the underdog)? Does he regret falling in love? Or did he use that experience to learn? It is how we choose to narrate the story that matters.

Storytelling can also be important in battling personal demons. Another study showed patients who sought treatment for depression, marital problems and who won told very similar tales about the experience.

They described their problem, whether depression or an eating disorder, as coming on suddenly, as if out of nowhere. They characterized their difficulty as if it were an outside enemy, often giving it a name (the black dog, the walk of shame). And eventually they conquered it.

While these people saw their problems (drinking, cheating) as a villain to be defeated, the others felt these were part of their own character.

Another trick I've learned is to learn to shift perspective from a first-person point of view to a third-person. Remembering events in the third-person point of view allows us to be a little distant from the story and to be more critical and objective.

In a 2005 study reported in the journal Psychological Science, researchers at Columbia University analyzed how people reacted to a painful memory when it was recalled in the third person.

“What our experiment showed is that this shift in perspective, having this distance from yourself, allows you to relive the experience and focus on why you’re feeling upset,” instead of being immersed in it, said Ethan Kross, the study’s lead author. The emotional content of the memory is still felt, he said, but its sting is blunted as the brain frames its meaning, as it builds the story.

What is interesting in all these studies is the implication that the power to change our lives may fundamentally be related to how we tell our stories. We write, apparently not just to express but also to create ourselves. So be careful how you write your stories, you may be revealing  more than you want to.

Thank you to those who took the time to read, understand and share their thoughts about what I wrote. I fear I may have failed in making myself clear on certain things and because I strongly believe that this artice can be very helpful, I will labor to answer some of your comments.

It would help if you also read the original article as it appeared in the New York Times. I included a link above.

I noticed most of you focused on the implication of how other people would view you based on how you write. But that is not the point of this research. It is not how others perceive you, it is how you perceive yourself.

What others may conclude about you is irrelevant. It is not what kind of a writer you are, it is what kind of a person you think you are as revealed by how you tell or write your life stories.

The research also focuses only on life stories, the story of your life so it does not apply to fabricated tales, or fiction. We can surmise and discuss how we reveal ourselves in our fictional works but this is clearly beyond the limits of the research.

Again, it was a pleasure reading your comments and I look forward to hearing your ideas. Cheers =)

I would like to thank my friend Niel for sharing with me the article. He has been a wonderful friend, confidant and my de-facto shrink whenever I feel that life has dealt me another blow. But see Niel, look at where we are now? =)


Friday, November 26, 2010

The Marrying Kind


A few years ago, I wrote this.

I first met Neil almost a decade ago. I call him by a secret name; my ___ ___. If you're reading this Neil, it's still the same two words.

We were young, naive, curious about the world. We both love books and we would read to each other our favorite stories and poems. As the years passed, we discovered the world and liked what we saw. We grew older, lived in different cities, and one day, I learned he had married another man. Some beautiful boy who hails from Eastern Europe; the land of Kundera, paprika and goulash.

To this day I still know the exact spot in EDSA where I was at when he told me the news. Some things, you never forget.

We chatted recently and I asked him to tell me about his two years of marriage and the married life.

"It differs per person, I think.," Neil said.

And then he said it.

"And honestly, Kane, I think you're not the marrying kind."

My chest suddenly constricted. I was shocked and hurt but didn't know how to react. In my head, I was thinking "How could he say that?"

Here he was, my ___ ___, telling me he thinks I'm not the "marrying kind". It felt awful, especially coming from someone who was married and apparently, happy being married.

After a few minutes, Neil sensed that something was wrong.

"I didn't mean that one comment as an insult okay?" he said.

"I know," I replied. I was still.

"You know what I mean right?"

"I know."

"What I meant was I think you'll have a hard time finding a man who'd be able to keep up with you."

Keep up with me? What does that mean? But deep down I knew, all too well. This man who I haven’t seen in more than three years could still tell things about me, things that perhaps I did not realize or did not want to realize. I knew there was some truth in it, and the truth is not always kind.

At the end of the day, I think what people want is a love that lasts forever. But such a love is hard to find, or keep as we change. People do change, and sometimes they change too little. Or too much.

Neil has found his happy ever after and I do envy him that.

I still dream of love. I know I am a little unusual ... It's hard for me to find someone who understands my stories. Not just understand ... but love my stories. And love me.

But I'd like to think that there are others who will also choose the path less traveled. Perhaps the yellow wood won't be so lonely after all.

Neil and his husband divorced after three years of marriage.

"Tang-ina (Fuck) Kane," he said. "I'm married and divorced before 30. My parents don't even know I was married to a guy. How can I tell them I'm now divorced?"

"But imagine, when guys would flirt with you and ask if you're single, you get to say 'I'm divorced'!"

"Hahahaha. It's not everyday you meet a divorced gay guy huh."

He was quiet for a while. "I'm never marrying again, you know. I'm done with marriage. Tried it, it didn't fucking work."


Monday, November 22, 2010

That Kind of Girl


Dwayne and I started hanging out regularly ever since that night. And it was fun. Dwayne was fun to be with. I've forgotten how enjoyable the attention of a young man can be.

"Alam mo ba (You know), I put in the log book under reason for visit - to make out and hopefully have some light sex with Kane," Dwayne told me while we were eating the creamy seafood pasta and citrus salad he brought.

"Gago ka talaga. Di nga? (Come on, serious?)" I replied

"Kahit walang sex, okay na rin naman. (Well, it's okay even if there's no sex.) Halika nga dito (Come here)," he said, pulling me until I was on top of him. I could feel his throbbing erection.

We kissed and I tasted the butter and cream in his mouth. Delicious.

"When can I see you again?" Dwayne asked me.

Dwayne is a sweet thoughtful young man and he is amazing in many ways. He would drop by at home and bring me food after his work, and over dinner we would talk about how our day went. I rediscovered the pleasure of eating supper … and eating supper with someone.

How are you? How was your day? How was work?

The small talk couples usually have, the insignificant chit chats we don't realize form and strengthen our bonds with our lovers.

But sadly the more we talked, the more I discovered how we are un-alike. And it was The End of the Affair that sealed our fate.

I was narrating the scene where Sarah Miles realized God had agreed to her bargain: her lover Maurice Bendrix lives but in return, she is never to see him again. I have always wondered at the fairness of such a contract: Sarah's lover's life in exchange for her fidelity to her husband. Can God be so cruel? Or, so kind?

When I finished, there was … silence. I was waiting for a reaction, something like "wow" perhaps but Dwayne remained quiet. Then suddenly he said, "Gusto ko yung kinuwento mo (I like the story)" in an utterly unconvincing voice.

I nodded, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Oh Dwayne, I thought in my head, this is why you and I can never be.

"Oh my God. Hindi siya pumasa! (He didn't pass the test!)" Neil said, after I told him what happened. "Ang hirap naman kasi ng exam na binigay mo; The End of the Affair talaga. (Of all the topics, you had to choose the hardest. The End of the Affair.)"

"I know. But Neil, I need someone who understands my stories," I replied. The way you do.

"Hayyyy… there are a lot of guys no Kane, but only a few will really get you. You're too much kasi minsan (Sometimes, you are just too much)," he said. "I remember you telling me about that story, though. Na-miss ko tuloy mga kuwento mo. (I suddenly miss your stories.)"

Dwayne's question jolted me back to reality. I realized what I had to do. It was time.
"Dwayne, teka lang (hold on). I think we need to talk," I said and straightened up. I looked at him seriously.

"What about?"

"Huwag ka masyadong ma-intense. Relax lang. (Don't be too intense. Just relax.)"

"Ha? Hindi naman ako intense. Ano ka ba (Huh? But I'm not intense)," Dwayne said. We were both a little nervous.

"Good. Look, I'm not looking for anything serious right now," I said.

"Bakit hindi? (Why not?)" he asked. He suddenly looked downcast.

"I just have other priorities," I explained. Sometimes a lie is kinder than the truth.

He was very quiet. "Ayaw mo ba sa akin? (Don't you like me?)"

Alam kong nasasaktan siya sa mga sinasabi ko. (I knew what I was saying was hurting him.)

"Dwayne, ano ka ba. Huwag kang malungkot (Come on Dwayne. Don't be sad)," I pleaded. "I do. I think you're amazing. But I guess I still like being single; I still want to meet more guys, have sex with more men."

I knew what I said probably hurt him more. Perhaps what I said what unnecessary. But I wanted to make myself clear and not create false hope. And telling him I'm a slut is the least painful way to do it. Better me than him. Better that I'm the bad guy. At least he doesn't have to feel he wasn't enough. Or at least, not that much.

I smiled wanly and took his hand.

"Besides, you can't be all that surprised Dwayne," I slowy said. "Nakalimutan mo na ba? (Have you forgotten?) I'm the guy you picked up sa kalye (at the street) to have a threesome. I'm that kind of girl."

"Nothing's so loud
as hearing when we lie
the truth is not kind
and you said neither am I"
---Toad the Wet Sprocket, "All I Want"

Thursday, November 18, 2010

A Year Ago

Nov. 13, 2010

On rare nights like these, I suddenly remember M. But tonight is special. It was exactly a year ago that I last saw him.

I remember many, many things but what I remember most is how much I loved him. I read the stories I had written about him, and looking at those words again reminded me how I was so in love.

Sometimes I forget that such a thing exists: yung pag-ibig na buhay at kamatayan (a love that's life and death). I know, I know... I sound like a crazy old man rambling but it is true. I am old and I am a little crazy.

That kind of love exists. And it's the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced.

And tonight, listening to Chicane saying "So lay me down awake, no sound and I dream about you" --- images of our happier days flashed into my mind.

The first time I saw him.  I still remember it clearly. We met in a club and that's why Kylie's song All I See reminds me of him, terribly. The smoke, the haze, and then the crowd parted and there was a beautiful boy.

Doesn't matter what's going on
Or who's around us
All I see is you
Right now they're playing our song
Dance floor is ours
All I see is you

The DJ's got me feelin' like I did
When I first met you
And there's nothing that can break us apart
In two
'Cause all I see is you

We would dance so close together and he would look at me like I was the only girl in the world. His eyes would twinkle and we would give each other the look, our secret look. The one nobody else  knows.

They say time blurs memory, but I realize if you allow yourself to, you'll learn memories are like photographs. You can store them away, but when you see them, they become alive all over again and shine brighter than ever.

This was a photo taken during our first trip together.

Ang saya. Sobra.

For the first ... and last time in my life, I felt that kind of love. And the memory of it is beautiful ... enough to last. Enough to give me comfort on nights like these... when love seems so far away.


Monday, November 15, 2010

High Risk


Carlo and I had ourselves tested for HIV last weekend. Although I had taken the exam several times before, I was still nervous given my … uhm … recent behavior.

"Grabe Carlo. Nakakainis no. (It sucks.) No matter how safe you are, you still get anxious!!!"

"I know!!! I mean, ang kunti na nga lang ng sex ko (I don't have a lot of sex), but still, I'm a little nervous," Carlo replied.

"I guess, low risk or high risk, it's still a risk."

"Yeah. But I'm pretty sure I'm negative. You, on the other hard, I'm worried a little ... I mean, you have been rather frisky lately," Carlo teased me.

"Fuck off. Hahaha. I am always safe kaya."

"Still ... "

While waiting for the result, I realized this is how I will always feel during an HIV test, that I will always be a little scared. No matter what you do to protect yourself, there is always a risk you will be exposed to the virus during sex.

The condom could break, you could have sores in your mouth. Fuck, even a blowjob isn't safe these days. You'd better be careful what you put in your mouth, ladies. Or anywhere else for that matter.

The counselor suggested I use a condom during fellatio. To be completely safe, he said. Bu then again I wanted to say, "Now, honey, where's the fun in that?"

But the biggest shock was when they told me I am what they classify as a high-risk individual.

"Are you saying that because I'm gay?" I asked.

"Oh no. It's because you have sex with multiple partners," the counselor replied.


Tekaaaaaaaaaa (Now wait a minute)… did he just call me promiscuous??????

"To lessen the risk, you can explore other options. Maybe have only one partner, or practice celibacy," he added.

I suddenly missed the Kane in a relationship, he never had to worry about such things. But that girl is gone, I told myself, and this one has to face the consequences of her actions.

I thought about the options he presented and realized that I probably will be high risk for a little while longer.

The danger is great, but  I have needs I cannot suppress. Yes, the spirit is willing but the flesh is oh-so-weak.

I always have safe sex, but I do have sex. Once in a while, if my schedule permits. Celibacy, unfortunately, is not an option. Nor monogamy. And as Carlo told the counselor, "I'm a risk taker, baby."

And I'm guessing so are most of you.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010


I woke up that day with a single thought in my head: I wanted to see the ocean.

It was a three-day weekend and everyone was busy preparing for the Halloween parties in Manila including the annual Cream Ball and the Black Party in Malate.

Fuck, my friend Jason even had a Hellcats cheerleader costume made. He was hoping to snag a quarterback.

But I wanted something different.
"Come on Brian, let's go to Ilocos," I said, trying to convince my friend to come with me. "Cobbled streets, lighthouses, windmills, beaches, and bagnet; what more can you ask for?"

"Hmmm... Why do you want to go out of town ba?"

"I want to go to the beach. I want to swim, I want to travel. Besides, if I stay here, it's the same old thing. Parties and boys na naman."

"Hahaha. You make it sound like it's such a bad thing. Pero sige sige, punta tayo. (But okay okay, let's go.)


The bus left Manila Thursday evening and by dawn the next day, we were standing on top of the 400-year old San Agustin belfry watching as the sun's rays slowly crept up on the nearby town of Burgos.

The sun rises and sets every day, but not all sunrises are the same. There was a golden light, streaked with blood and purple, as if the end of the world had come without intruding on everyday-life.

In the afternoon, we stopped by the town of Burgos to see the Kapurpurawan rock formation. The rock was carved out from the surrounding sandstone through the centuries by wind and waves erosion. It was huge, imposing and white, very white.

Brian and I headed towards the rock for a closer look. We were walking on dead corals that dotted the landscape when suddenly a wave hit us. I fell into the sea.

I struggled to reach the surface to breathe but the current was too strong. I was tossed under the ocean, scraped my hands, arms, legs, feet and back against the corals. Then I crashed into a rock, hit my head and everything went dark.

When I was alive, I often wondered why there are no happy ghosts, but now that I am one, I understand why.

The universe of knowledge opens up to you in death. Every word, every detail now has weight and meaning: the smile thoughtlessly given, the promises made.

You begin to understand each moment of your life clearly, identify all the things you should have done, and shouldn't have. But what's the use, when it's all too late?

When you're mortal, you only have so much information at hand. You never know what other people really think; their desires, wishes, impulses. You never know what is hidden.

All these are revealed in death. The lover who waited in the rain for two hours, hoping you'll come back, the dad who can never tell his son how proud he is of him, the friend who betrayed you.

The people closest to us suddenly become strangers, and all their motivations are suddenly laid bare.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Happiness Like a Tattoo


"Thanks Kane. I really appreciate it. By the way, how are you?" Yas texted me.

"I'm good Yas. Happy =)," I replied.

"I always say I wish happiness is like a tattoo; permanent."

"Ohhh… It comes and goes, I've learned."

"Yung iba kasi, maraming stock. Ayaw mamigay. (But you know, it just seems others have a huge stock of it. They don't want to share.) Hahaha."

"Yung iba naman, nasa harap na nila, ayaw pang kunin. (While for some, it's right in front of them, they just don't want to take it.)"

"Aaayyyyyy!!! May pinanghuhugutang malalim ba iyan? (Now where did that come from?)" Yas asked.
"Hahaha. It's just an observation of human nature. :)"
I think, we all want to be happy. As the Greek philosopher Aristotle observed, no person deliberately chooses to be unhappy.
The question then is: What is happiness? What makes us happy?
In his lecture "The Four Levels of Happiness", Reverend Robert Spitzer, S.J., writer, teacher, and speaker, discussed the four kinds of happiness we experience.

1) Laetus: Happiness in a thing.

I want a vanilla almond ice cream. I bought and ate vanilla almond ice cream. I am happy.
I want the Iphone4. I bought the Iphone4. I am happy.

This kind of happiness comes from things outside ourselves and involves one or more of the five senses. The pleasure they give is immediate, direct but short lived.

After awhile, you'd want another ice cream, a newer phone.

2) Felix: The happiness of comparative advantage.

I have a nicer job than Andrew.
I have more money than Michelle.
My biceps are bigger than Miguel's

This kind of happiness involves the ego. It is a result of competition, by comparing yourself to others and seeing yourself as superior to others. The most important thing in the world (me) has been affirmed.

We all want to improve ourselves, to achieve goals and finish projects. The danger is when we believe that happiness can only be found in achievement or success; that means we will live in constant competition with other people.

3) Beatitudo: The happiness that comes from seeing the good in another person and doing good for another person.

My friend Paolo is sick. I will take care of him even if it means I will not have enough sleep.
My sister needs money for school. I will give her the money I have been saving for a new phone.

Human beings are not selfish; or at least, not all are. Some of us also desire love, truth, justice, beauty.

We find happiness in giving to another, in making the world a better place. We make personal sacrifices, forgive others, give our live, energy, money and time to another person.

But at some point, we can become frustrated. We realize we can never do enough to help, there is always more to do. We cannot be everything to everyone.

4) Sublime Beatitudo: The reach for fullness and perfection of happiness.

We all face our mortality, at some point in time. This recognition of our finiteness is what pushes our desire for the sublime, something beyond. People of faith recognize this as a desire for a God.

For others, it's a recognition of something infinite that lies beyond our mortal world. Perhaps the collective human creativity and spirit which has propelled our civilization to where it is now.

Sometimes I wonder why happiness is fleeting. Why do we suffer? Perhaps it is because most of our happiness is tied to mortal things; human gadgets, human love.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Open Auditions


Part I

Now, what's a girl to do when a lover leaves?

Others may sit in a corner and sulk, but definitely not this girl and not in her kingdom. Instead, she summons the court messenger to announce open auditions for the next batch of fuck buddies.

"Should I send for Brandon, Your Majesty?" the court messenger asked.

"No. I am tiring of him. I want new ones. Send a royal edict to every corner of the land. I want all young, able-bodied men in the palace within a fortnight," I said.

"As you wish, Your Highness. Is that all?"

"Yes. You may leave."

There's nothing like new dishes to whet up your appetite; after all, men do come in all shapes, shades, sizes, and scents.

The first to arrive was a young lad named Joel. He obviously comes from a poor peasant family with his ragtag clothes and scruffy hair.

Joel looked like… Hmmmm… how do we put it delicately? He looked like a kanto boy; the kind na tambay sa mga kalye ng Manila kasama ang tropa. (He looked like one of those boys who hang out in Manila's street corners with his buddies.)

Profile: Very raw, rough, rugged. Deliciously dark. I must admit, he isn't my usual type, but a little variety now and again spices up our lives.

Company: His stories about working in the Middle East and family anecdotes got me hooked. His mom is a katulong (maid) and his father is a jeepney driver. Natuwa ako sa mga kuwento niya. Plus, his smile is particularly endearing.

Performance in and out of bed: Have you ever felt like a teenage girl raped and violated? I was tossed and turned and flipped and … nuff said.

Part II

After I sent Joel away, I decided to do some errands. Naglalakad ako pauwi ng may nakasalubong akong dalawang lalaki. (I was walking home when I crossed paths with two guys.)

I was on the phone with Carlo that time; I turned around and saw that they had stopped and were looking at me.

"Oh my God honey, huminto sila (they stopped)," I said.

"Huminto ka rin! (Stop!)"

Huminto nga ako. (I stopped.)

"Anong gagawin ko? (What do I do?)" I asked. I was fidgeting, nervous.

"Dalawa sila, so dapat sila ang lumapit. (There's two of them so they should be the ones to approach.)"

After a long wait, one of them came up to me and introduced himself as Dwayne. He was wearing a grey shirt and shorts; cute, chinito, tall, my kind of guy.

"Gusto mo ba ngayon? Dalawa kami. (Do you want to hook up with us?)" Dwayne asked, cutting short the chit chat.

Nagulat ako. Buy one, take two pala ito. (I was startled. I realized they're a package deal.)

"Uhmmm, kakatapos ko lang kanina eh. Hindi na ako lalabasan niyan. ( Uhmmm, I just had sex earlier. I'm not really in the mood anymore.)"

"Okay lang yan. Kami bahala sa iyo. (Don't worry. We'll take care of you.)," he said, trying to convince me.

The bargaining has begun.

"Okay yung kasama ko, maganda ang katawan niyan. (My friend's got a hot body.)," Dwayne said, gesturing at his friend.

I was in a dilemma. I already had sex twice that day, and I'm more than happy with that. Still… hooking up with two guys you just met in a street is the stuff gay dreams are made of.

Dwayne could see I was still hesitant.

"Kung gusto mo, manood ka na lang. (If you want, you can just watch.)"

Watch. Now that's something I've never done before. Watch two guys fuck live, how can a girl resist?

Part III
To be continued...

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Farewell My Concubine


Young, reckless and impulsive, Chris charmed the guests at the birthday party we were at last Friday night.

"So what are you guys?" Arnold asked us.

Chris and I looked at each other and laughed.

"We're … friends," I said.

"Why aren't you dating? O, are you guys just fucking each other?"

"I'm not his type," Chris butted in. "He likes them older. And yes, we fuck."

"Chris!" I blushed or pretended to, at least.

"I like your boy," Arnold whispered to me. "He is such a delight."

"I know," I whispered back.

Chris and I were left alone while the others refilled the ice and mixed more drinks. I was tired from a long day of work, and the cold October night and alcohol were making me woozy.

I looked at him and noticed he looked especially good tonight, in his tight black jeans and ochre-colored shirt. I wanted to kiss him right there. It has been awhile since we had sex; three weeks to be exact.

"I'm going to see my ex tomorrow," Chris suddenly told me.

I was surprised.

"Ahhh. You're talking again pala. Magbabalikan ba kayo? (Are you guys getting back together?)"

"I don't know. He says he wants to talk."

Talk. I knew what that meant.

"Oh. How long has it been?" I asked him.

"Three months na."

I could see he was trying not to be excited. But I knew how much his ex-boyfriend meant to him.

I took his hand and squeezed it.

"Masaya ako para sa iyo Chris. (I'm happy for you Chris)," I said.

"Asus. It's nothing. We'll just talk," he said, downplaying the meeting.

I finished the last of the vodka in my glass. I knew what was going to happen.

"So … if you do get back together, I guess that means we won't see each other again right?" I asked, trying to make the question sound light. But I already knew the answer.

Chris was silent, trying to evade the question.

"Parang ganun na nga. (I guess so.)"

I slowly nodded.

"Hey, I'll miss you," I said and smiled at him weakly.

There's a time for beginnings; there's a time for endings. With friends, lovers, and even fuck buddies.

Chris is my fuck buddy. But he is also more than that. He is also my friend, my companion. We have shared stories to each other, listened when the other needed to talk.  Chris was a mess when he broke up with his ex. Nobody knew he was gay; he had no one he could talk to. I befriended him, introduced him to my friends, and brought him to parties and clubs. He discovered a whole new world.

But time and time again, I would catch him staring into the distance and I knew his mind was somewhere else. Somewhere not here.

Although he rarely spoke of his failed relationship, I knew it was always in his thoughts, in the way his eyes would cloud over, in the way he would hug me tightly with his eyes closed at night. I knew those were not for me, but for a ghost in some distant past.

That night, we had sex for the last time. He left in the morning and headed straight to his ex-boyfriend's house.

Chris was coming home.

"We said eternity;
And I will go to my grave
With the life that I gave."
---John Mayer, "Home Life"

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

It Matters Now


I was falling asleep when my phone rang.

"Hey Nic, what's up?" I said in a drowsy voice.

I couldn't hear anything until I suddenly realized he was crying.

"O, are you okay? What happened?"

"Jack and I broke up."

He was sobbing.

"I didn't know who else I can call. Patulog ka na ba? (Are you about to sleep?)" Nic said. "Gusto ko lang umiyak. (I just want to cry.)"

"No… it's okay Nic. Sige lang. Iiyak mo lang. (Just cry it out.)"

Nic and Jack have been together for four years. They shared many happy memories, like most couples do. They were having problems but the one that broke the last thread was when Nic found out Jack was in love… with someone else.

"Wala na akong magawa Kane eh. (I can't do anything Kane.) He's in love with someone else."


When relationships fail, we often look for someone or something to blame. We often say, that bitch stole my boyfriend and we insist our lovers still love us.

But I've learned that sometimes, the simplest reason is the one that's the most difficult to accept.

He fell out of love with me. There… you have it.

Nic and Jack had planned to go on a trip to Kuala Lumpur and Singapore before they broke up. They still decided to go… as friends now.

"How was it?" I asked Nic last night at the gym.

"It was okay, fun fun. I guess travelling has always been our thing, you know."

"Ahhh… you're right. Your 'couple' thing," I replied and smiled.

"I only got sad when we were about to go home from the airport," Nic said, "I guess I knew what that meant."


"During the trip, I could still pretend we were together. A part of me wished the vacation didn't have to end."

I looked at him and told him I understood… all too well, perhaps. There are certain bridges we don't want to cross. Sometimes the grass at the other side of the fence is not greener.

To lighten things up, I playfully punched him in his tummy.

"O, what's this?" I teased him.

"Asus. Hayaan mo na iyan. (Oh just let it be.)"

"Oh honey, you forget. You are no longer married. It matters now."

"Ayyy… PAK!" Nic said and we both laughed.

I was walking home and humming a tune when Nic texted.

"You were right. Being fat matters now that I'm single."

Tuesday, October 05, 2010



I was drinking at a bar when I met Michael. We were introduced by a common friend and we started chatting after we both found out we grew up at the same hometown.

"So, how long have you been in Manila?" I asked him.

"A couple of years," he said, taking a swig at his bottle.

"So how is it so far?"

"It's great," he replied, grinning. "There are a lot more good looking men in Manila as compared to the province."

Michael was about 25, then. He was young, beautiful, eager to see the city, with its bright brimming lights and dream filled streets.

"Here, there's more variety," he said, gesturing at a couple of muscular men dancing at the ledge.

"Hahaha. A collector, I see. And whose turn is it tonight?"

"It's your turn," he answered, looking straight into my eyes.

Ahhhh… this boy likes the game, I said to myself.

"What makes you think I'll go with you?" I told him.

"What makes you think you won't?"

I found him unnerving and exciting at the same time. I rarely meet a man who could outmatch me.

"Come," he said and pulled me to the dance floor.

The next day, we woke up at around noon. I was about to leave but he insisted we get something to eat at a nearby fastfood.

"Were you always like this? When you were in Davao, were you sleeping around?"

"Oh no," he said seriously. "I had a boyfriend there."

"So what happened to him?"

"He still writes to me. But I never open his letters."

"Why not?" I asked Michael.

"I don't have time for him. But he doesn't understand that. I wish he would stop sending me gifts."

"What doesn't he understand?"

"That things change. He thinks in terms of forever. He doesn't understand why I can't keep the promises I made to him, years ago."

"Promises of eternal love."

"Who hasn't made promises like that? But nobody really keeps them. We all talk a lot, being in love makes you say things you thought you meant. I did mean those things back then. But I was young, we both were and you think you know the future. He still thinks I am his, forever."

"Perhaps he will learn in time."

"I don't think so. You don't know him. As far as he is concerned, I will always be his... always."

Michael said the last word in a way that indicated he knew that word was not his, but his boyfriend's, which he denied everyday by his actions, by not opening his letters and gifts, by placing a distance between each other.

There are people who know exactly what they want; and their will is much stronger than those who don't know what they want, or know only what they don't want. There are forces we can escape, and then there are those that are infinitely patient and determined, and love is one of them.

I thought of Michael's boyfriend, waiting for his lover to come back. I once was that boy, I remember.

I would see Michael once in while, we would go out for a drink or see each other in clubs. He got into several messy relationships and break-ups, including one that led to the loss of his job at a hotel and another that led to drug abuse. He began to lose his youthful looks, and took on the air of a man who has fallen on hard times. He soon disappeared from the scene and later on, I learned he migrated to Singapore for work.

Years later, I saw him in Orchard at a coffee shop with a guy.

"Hey Michael!" I shouted.

"Kane! What a surprise!"

"It's so good to see you," I said. "How have you been?"

"I'm good, good. Here, let me introduce you to someone."

"Kane, this is my boyfriend, Ryan. He's also from Davao," he explained to me, smiling.

"It's nice meeting you," Ryan said, shaking my hand and smiling shyly.

Ryan was nothing special compared to the boys in the clubs we used to frequent. But there was something about him, an air that was at once reserved and determined.

"We got back together," Michael whispered to me. "I guess he was right, after all. That I was always his."

Friday, October 01, 2010

Spit Roast: The California Boy

"He's our California boy, he's unforgettable.
Fine, fresh, fierce
We got it on lock."

We all know him. He's our guilty pleasure. That one blog we're shy to admit we read. Our hot friend has a dirty, dirty mind and a knack for penning exciting and arousing stories for the dirty boy in all of us.

Before there were interactive DVD porn and sex scandals, there was the art of erotic story telling. It usually was very long, and subtle enough to keep you aroused yet always held back just enough to keep you reading until the end. These stories of playful cousins and pizza delivery guys were part of our childhood, igniting our fantasies and dreams.

California boy started writing eight months ago and since then he has attracted more than 170 followers and accumulated almost 12,000 hits on his profile page.

He's the boy du jour, the man who showed us his cock and armpits, and revealed his sexual encounters which his readers lapped greedily. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you ... Soltero.

Why do you blog?  In your first entry, you said "having to express my thoughts and musings about everyday life should be a nice outlet to vent out what's been bursting deep inside of me... this can be my therapy, for seeing a shrink can be quite expensive."

But I can't help but notice you've decided to focus more on your sexual encounters. Why are most of your stories about sex? Why is it important or why do you like to write about them?

I have been reading numerous blogs over the years and I actually had a straight blog that I kept for less than a year. I envied bloggers who were able to share their experiences, their heartaches, their sentiments and their adventures as a gay person to an audience.

I knew that I have a few of my own that are worth sharing to people, so I started blogging again. I wasn't expecting a lot of readers to find my blog, and I told myself that even if only 10 people would read mine and  interact with me through their comments, then that would be enough.

To be honest, I always have the case of ningas cogon - I start a project only to abandon it after a few weeks. I thought I'd be able to blog for a month or two then stop. Here I am now in my eighth month or so, and I have no intentions of stopping ... for now.

I knew that to hold an audience captive, I need to establish what kind of a blogger I want to be, to project. I have a lot of sexual stories that I thought may interest readers, so I concentrated more on that aspect.

Also, I am very much aware that I don't have the competency in writing some bloggers out there possess. So I needed to find that niche for me. I can't compose mind-blowing poetry, I can't write awesome fiction - but what I do know is that I can write literotica, an erotic story out of my experiences that would titillate the imagination of a few.

Well, you certainly did titillate "more" than that. I heard those armpits of yours are now legendary: the stuff dreams are made of. (Grins.)

So, what's the story behind your blog name?

I wish there's really an elaborate story behind my blog name but there's none. I couldn't think of a really good title when I was starting, the first thing that crossed my mind was that, I am still single, I have no boyfriend, voila - use Spanish, so Soltero it is.


When I started reading some cool blogs, I began thinking how come I didn't think of a much better name, so I thought of adding a word that would rhyme with Soltero. I deal mostly with sex stories, so I thought of sexual innuendos... Soltero - innuendo. Eureka! Soltero's Innuendos it is.

Hehehe. Seriously, I wish I thought of titles like, Comforting Oblivion, Waiting for the Light To Change, Coming Out Of Narnia - some of the few blog titles I really like. But I'm stuck with Soltero's Innuendos. But the title kinda grew on me. Now, I really like it, it has a more personal touch, I think.

And oh, Soltero is also a movie that I watched years ago, I forgot who the actor was. But it was a real sad movie. The lead character, as the title denotes, was single all his life. Matandang Binata, sabi nga sa atin, It was a very sad movie. But a very good one. Can't remember if he was gay, probably not. Hehe

What is the most significant/memorable blog post you've ever read?

I really liked Mugen's post about a scooter bike. What I like about the post was it's simplicity. He talked about the scooter that was given to him by his dad but he rarely used and in the end was just left to rust.

The best thing about the story was that he, the author himself, was unaware of the subliminal messages his story has. It was us, the readers, who realize the scooter symbolizes virility, manliness, that his father was imposing on him. But the realization that his kid was really different came when one day his dad discovered that it was not cared for, and was just left to corrode and rust.

For me, it symbolizes his coming out to his dad even at a young age. Also, in that post, I was able to capture what his true relationship with his father was. I thought the post was poignant.

What is the most significant/memorable blog post you've ever written?

I think it would be "What's Up, Dear Nephew". I guess for me it was my atonement. I did not go into details about what happened but because of his untimely death, I wasn't able to go home and grieve with my family. Again, during his death anniversary, I wasn't there.

Also I have visited Pinas a few times but I seldom got to really bond with him, Of all my nieces and nephews, my older brother's kids are the ones that are not that close to the rest of us. It's hard to explain but it's mainly because of his dad, my older brother. He's got a lot of problems.

Although it wasn't the most commented, I believe that post touched a lot of my readers. Those who commented said they felt the sincerity of the post. I too fought tears when I was writing that. Some found it to be touching and sad, at the same time there's a bit of my playfulness and naughtiness in it, too.

His death became a wakeup call. I suddenly remembered how truly close we were when he was just a kid, even spending nights with me. But when I migrated here in the U.S., I rarely spoke with him. Communication was sparse. Then the guilt and regrets came when the tragedy happened.

Comments from my readers are the reason why I still keep blogging. The moment they stop coming, the moment my readers stop reacting, that will be the signal for me to stop. I can have hundreds and hundreds of followers, but if not one or only a few interacts with me, then my blog posts have not been effective, my blog posts were probably boring.

Who are your favorite bloggers and why?

First one to come to mind is easy - Master Mugen. Not the first blogger I read, but the first one I commented on. I need not explain further, because everybody knows he writes very well. And oh, he can also write literotica you know! Haha ;p

And also, he was the first blogger to follow me. If not for his blog, my blog would be still be an anonymous blog. His readers found mine and the rest is history.

Mandaya Moore & Baklang Maton - I never fail to read their blogs. Both are funny, witty, sexy and at the same time you can sense that both are deep people, their stories may appear light and comical but there's depth to what they write about. And Mandaya makes the best blog titles!

I have always been fascinated with Mandaya's conquests and I swoon everytime he goes into the details of his love affairs. I have learned to love Kulot, Babes in the City, the Soldier and his friends are really wacky.

Sometimes, I wonder, what powers does his Green Sofa have? How would it feel to sleep in that sofa wearing the magic shorts? That I am so curious about. Hehe

Agent Boytoy - RIP. - Heheheh. when he discontinued writing, I died. It was the same feeling I had when I read the last Harry Potter book. I followed his love affair with Cupcake, I enjoyed his stories about his mates. Up until now, I am still hoping he'd come back to write again. Is he still with Cupcake? I wanna know. I wish he reads my blog and answer. Hehehe :P

Bookie's Call Center Confidential has been in my bookmark for years. I frequentlyly visit his site because he never fails to entertain me, I always look forward to reading his Top 10 Hottest Call Center Guys hahahha and he never disappoints with his selection.

It's also fun knowing what really goes on in call centers - the juicy gossips, the intigues ahaha. He is like the Boy Abunda of call centers. His posts are really entertaining, and I think he is one of the best writers around.

There are a few new bloggers that can really write, like Alterjon, and Désolé Boy. Oh, I like Drew's style of writing, too.

How difficult or how easy is it for you to write about your sexual encounters?

It is so easy writing about my sexual encounters. I am sort of an exhibitionist, you know. Haha. Besides all my stories are first hand experiences, I have not written any story that was made up. I tried fabricating a sexual story before so that I would be able to blog one, but I just can't finish it. It appeared so fake.

Do you enjoy reading other writer's erotica stories? Who do you like?

Of course I do! Hehe. The one that I read religiously is Eon's Daredevilry. That dude can write. He writes very explicitly but you won't find it vulgar at all. Of course it does help that he is a really gifted writer. When I grow up, I wanna be like him.

So... I read you have tried topping in sex, but I'm curious if you are open to being a bottom. I mean, if can be fun, or at least that's what I've heard.

I only topped once and as much as possible, I want to limit my sexual escapades to oral sex only. I don't wanna say I won't bottom ever because in the future, I might find someone I really care and love and if he requests that I bottom for him, I probably would try the Versa route hehe...

Hahaha. I hope you will tell us about it. And, being versa is really more fun. Again, based on what I heard, at least. Double your pleasure, double your fun.

I know you have an underwear fetish. How did that start?

I think my fetish started when I shared a two-bedroom apartment with a Canadian dude about 10 years ago in Huntington Beach. I answered an ad, he needed another person to rent the other room in the apartment so I took it. It's a two bedrom, one bath apartment so we share the only restroom. This surfer dude, who by the way is freaking hot, has this habit of leaving his underwear on the floor whenever he takes a shower.

So during times that I use the restroom and sees an underwear on the floor, ummmmm ahahhaa, i check it out and sniff it.

The dude only wears boxers, so I always get high with his undies. He is straight and brings girls all the time, I always hear them having sex, and numerous times I jacked off listening to them LOL

OMG! You sniffer you! Hahahaha. Fucker. Hahaha. I wonder if you ever stole one of his boxers. Anyway, do you have other fetishes?

Six-pack abs turn me on, treasure trails, armpits, straight guys who look like goons, guys who lick their lips and stick their tongue out while talking, VPLs (visible penis lines) ahahahha, and oh, guys who wear their pants or shorts so low with waistbands of their undies showing. That gives me an instant hardon.

Sigh. So I guess you and I can never be... I don't have a six-pack. I don't look like a goon. I'm just a girl standing in front of ... I'm kidding! Hahahaha.

Anyway, you said you don't smoke and drink, and that you run for exercise. Are you health conscious? Are you fit and lean?

Hmmmm. I'm not a health nut, not at all. I don't count my calories, and I don't run marathons. I don't smoke or drink because I just don't enjoy drinking and smoking. It's not for me. I rarely drink, and if I do, it would only be a glass of wine or a bottle of beer, or a few shots of Cuervo. And smoking? Never did!
Sex  (or having my dick sucked ) is my only vice. HAHAHA!

Am I lean and fit? I wish! Haha, but I have kept my weight for 20 years now. I am 165. For my height I think that weight suits me, I was 158 before and I did not look good so I try to maintain that 165.

I don't cook, so I must be straight haha! My fave foods are spaghetti, mixed adobo, chicken curry, and binagoongan.

How are you and your BFF? Are you friends again?

We are absolutely............. not talking. Hahahaha. Yes, he chose to burn the bridges, I guess. I have tried reaching out to him a couple of times. He said he wasn't ready for us to be friends again. The last time he texted was February, he wished me a happy birthday. Last time I texted him was May, his birthday. And yes, he is still my neighbor!

Nanghihinayang lang ako sa pinagsamahan namin, but I am not bitter. I didn't shed a tear for him, nor did I get depressed. I guess I was able to accept our fate rather easily.

I blogged about him recently, when he picked up his package that was delivered to our unit. His reaction when he saw me open the door was priceless. He couldn't seem to look me straight in the eye. I think he has not moved on yet. I can tell.

He didn't even say hello. When he picked up the package he just thanked me and left. Well, I just shrugged it off. I'm not affected anyways. I just feel sad that the months of friendship that we had was just thrown away like that. Oh well...

You came out late as a gay guy. You said you were suppressing it, ignoring it. What finally made you decide to accept you were gay?

I only came out to a few of my closest friends because keeping it all inside was emotionally draining, it was not healthy at all. I knew that I was strange when I was in high school but I did not entertain the thoughts. I led a straight life up until five years ago, when I had my first dick. Hahahaha. If I were still in the Philippines, I would probably be married with kids now. Religion plays a very big role in my decision making. It's really hard to expound on it, if I may I would like not to explain it any further.

Was it by choice that you never had a boyfriend? Was it something you didn't want before?

Again, it's because of my religion. If ever I will have one, it will not be fair to him. We'd both be hiding, and why be in a relationship if you're not gonna be proud of it. So I choose not to have one.

You recently said you are ready for love. What kind of relationship do you want? Do you ever get… lonely?

I just want to have somebody that I can spend some nights with. I wanna be able to cuddle at night, kiss, and do all sorts of nasty stuff. Hahaha.

Sometimes I get tired of those one-night stand encounters. Seriously, we don't have to be boyfriends. We don't have to be in a committed relationship. I just want a steady someone.

Malabo ba? I am scared to be tied down, I am scared of commitments, I just want to be with somebody that knows how to have some fun! At the same time, I wanna be able to do stuff without restrictions.

But how do I say this - I am a very positive person, and I rarely get lonely. I guess that's why even at this age, I look so young (eheheh) because I do not stress over small stuff. I don't let problems get the best of me.

What makes me worry a bit these days is the "GROWING OLD ALONE" thing. It doesn't affect me in a way that it becomes a source of depression. No, not even close. But still, sometimes, I just think about what will happen if I'm old and gray, and beauty has faded (Choz!) bwahahhaha... but nah, I just shrug it off,

When are you coming to the Philippines and who would you like to meet? Are you coming home for Christmas?

Christmas isn't celebrated in the household. Ok, I'm giving away one information there already haha...

If my plans will push through and if work will not hinder me from taking a vacation, I want to go home this December. And I would like to meet everybody (pang Miss Congeniality answer lang Hahaha). Seriously, everybody. Then during the meetup, I will secretly slip notes to those who will catch my attention and schedule a one-on-one meetup.

Bwahahhaha. Tikiman lang naman .... ;P

Oh, baka I'll be going to Europe with my friends instead of visiting Pinas. Niyaya nila kasi ako, pero I'm not sure yet. That all depends in my finances hehe, baka walang budget.

So, who have you met so far and... how was it?

Hmmm haha I won't go into details about the blogger that I met, but yeah, it was JR. We met twice before he left for Oregon. I can only say that we had so much fun (wink wink) on both occasions.

The first time I drove to Northridge (an hour and a half drive) to meet him at a Japanese restaurant (his treat), and I checked out his place for some karaoke LOL. The next, he was gonna visit his brother in OC and in the process, stopped by my place, I took him to Downtown Disney to eat and watch a movie. We really clicked, and we had so much in common. But we are just friends.

Well, that's niceeeeeee.... it's always nice to have friends, right? (Grins.)

So Soltero, we're almost near the end of this fascinating interview. Do you ever worry that it can be difficult to sustain interest in your blog, that people may get tired of hearing sex stories all the time? Do you plan to expand your writing?

I've been receiving lots of comments that although my blog is naughty and have lots of sex stories, they say that what they like abt my blog is the variation of topics. They espcially like the personal, emo stuff that I share in my blog. To borrow from Forrest Gump, it's like a box of chocolates, they'll never know what they're gonna read when they open my blog. Hehee.

To sustain my readership, I guess I will stick to what interests them in reading mg blog and maintain the sincerity of my posts. Probably add here and there posts about topics with relevance like my post about the Gay Pastor. But I won't stray too much frpm the winning formula. I know that what really makes them come back to my blog is reading my sexy stories.

Grabe Kane, I'm so excited!!!! I dreamt about reading this Spit Roast, it's in a magazine and four pages ahahaha!!!

Hahahaha. Talaga? Ang saya naman. Who knows, maybe you will be interviewed for a magazine one day. =)

So Soltero, every guest gets a chance to ask one question. It can be anything in this world. So what is it?

Soltero: In your opinion, what's the real reason readers keeps flocking to my blog? I know that sex sells but lots of blogs also focus on sex and yet do not gain the readership that I have?

You're right S. Sex does sell, but not all sex sells. You know, one time, my friends and I were talking about you, trying to analyze what makes you click.

And I think it is because you write with such childish glee. The way you tell your stories, para kang isang batang tuwang-tuwa. There is a certain innocence and honesty to it that comes across and people are attracted to that. Sometimes I imagine you to be a kid who just discovered gay sex... and in many ways, based on your stories, you really just did.

Plus, you are very friendly to people, you respond to comments and you comment on their stories. Everyone likes a star who is also accessible.

I once told McVie you have mastered the art of popular Pinoy gay blogging: lots of sex interspersed with emo stories. Too much sex, and people feel you're just that, a sex machine. The personal stories make you human.

Awww... nalulungkot rin pala siya. Nahihirapan rin pala siyang mag come out sa pamilya niya.

The sex is great and all but it is these stories that make people fall in love with you. That is how you stole their hearts AND their dicks.