tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87941051168625699172009-10-22T19:29:59.233+08:00Raving and Ranting from the depths of a twisted yet pinkish mind.jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.comBlogger278125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-58378519060241365122009-02-24T23:45:00.002+08:002009-02-24T23:53:12.491+08:00

Well here I go again, being too busy having actual sex to blog about sex...But one anecdote is just too amusing to ignore.There's a Jonathan Lethem story called Five Fucks. The main male character told the female character a certain joke while they were flirting in a bar. He said, "You know what's the worst part about being an atheist?" She replies "no". His answer, "No one to talk to when you

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-47733098029843812692009-02-06T14:14:00.002+08:002009-02-06T14:34:45.578+08:00

I'm one of those people that think good sex leaves people bruised, sore and barely able to walk afterwards. I like it rough and violent. Yes I'm one of those loud and borderline masochistic girls.So after a recent session, I wanted to figure out what kinds of soreness mean I had a really good time.Shoulder. From being manipulated and bitten (by myself and by my partner). From having my hands held

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-24167222380310282242009-01-30T15:15:00.001+08:002009-01-30T15:15:00.710+08:00

One of the things I really don't like doing is making out in a car. I can't stretch out. I can't move without bumping into something. Unless its an SUV, a small car really can't contain the wide array of actions and emotions I like displaying during sex. Also, I'm loud, so I tend to get caught.It is almost the one seemingly normal sex-related cliche I won't do. Except I have, literally, never

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-76495292574956803962009-01-29T23:11:00.000+08:002009-01-29T23:11:00.964+08:00

Ludo apparently plays geek rock...And I like it...You'll never hear this songYou'll never see the movie in my headBut you infest my sleep, and your figure creepsThrough my walls and hums above my bedI know your name, and that you're photogenic and tallBut I've never heard you talkAnd there's something about youThat stabs me right throughIt isn't right for me to paint your pictureEvery night, but

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-46923808321174115592009-01-29T17:29:00.000+08:002009-01-29T17:29:00.556+08:00

One of the things that suck about being a Bender-mocked meatbag is coming up with the really great lines after the moment has passed. This sucks doubly hard if you consider yourself a writer (case in point: me). You can come up with great lines on page, but not live. I always hated that about me. Until I realized that when I started being wittier live, I started being a bit duller on the page.

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-10793222019711730002009-01-28T23:50:00.003+08:002009-01-28T23:50:00.892+08:00

My name is Jean Grey, and I am a moaner. I am loud. I know. Hentai-sounds are issued. I have been asked to keep quiet during quickie-some-other-person's-house-sex. I have had my mouth covered. I have had cloth stuffed to my mouth. Kinky sex shit I know. But yes, when fucking in other people's jurisdictions, one must keep quiet.But I heard something during some semi-rough quickie sex that I've

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-50998641770677580562009-01-28T13:09:00.001+08:002009-01-28T13:09:01.102+08:00

I've always had a long, weird love-hate relationships with blow jobs. In high school I swore to two things. One was that I would never have a guy pick me up from somewhere just to take me home. It seemed like an awful waste of time unless we have actual plans. The whole thing also reeked of weakness. The other thing I swore was that I would never give blow jobs. I have never broken the first and

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-45581811821180121512009-01-27T11:14:00.003+08:002009-01-27T19:59:32.359+08:00

It was one of those nights. I hadn't gone out in a while. So now I wanted to fucking go out. Meaning bounce from place to place looking pretty. I was chilling at a place in the Makati area with friend Baby Girl. I was a little bit bored and she was a little sleepy. I had the brilliant idea of playing the text roulette game.The game goes like this: You text a drinking invitation to seemingly

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-22930430414829854872009-01-26T09:38:00.003+08:002009-01-26T09:38:00.553+08:00

I find it kind of sucky that some men really think they can claim some sort of ownership when there is clearly none. Especially when the last tenuous ties that supposedly bind have long been severed.One morning, woke up prior to my normal waking hours to find One Missed Call. Similar to the horror movie by the same name, I totally ignored it. It was from a dude I used to sleep with. And

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-48866335726435350752009-01-26T00:15:00.005+08:002009-01-26T00:28:44.372+08:00

Ok, so I like this little wanker of a song. But all my googling has been in vain. Other searches led to this fucking song. I know a lot of people are looking for these lyrics. So I listened to the song continually trying to decipher what the vocalist-dude was saying. Here's what I came up. [If anyone has any idea what the unintelligible part is, feel free to let me know.-->shit, just when I

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-33246395376073113622009-01-25T23:19:00.000+08:002009-01-25T23:19:00.168+08:00

I'd recently hung out with a couple of dudes recently. These were formerly known as the boys. And yep, they were back in my life for a while. Until they weren't again when they disappeared in a ball of flame and light.So I got to talk a little to Cc. Who was now going through tough times cos one of his friends ended up with his girlfriend. He was a bit depressed about it, but it seemed like he

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-83422760242277518472009-01-24T04:32:00.000+08:002009-01-24T04:32:00.761+08:00

Love me cancerouslyLike a salt-sore soaked in the sea.'High-maintenance' meansYou're a gluttonous queenNarcissistic and mean.Kill me romanticallyFill my soul with vomitThen ask me for a piece of gum.Bitter and dumbYou're my sugarplum.You're awful, I love you!CHORUSShe moves through moonbeams slowlyShe knows just how to hold meAnd when her edges softenHer body is my coffinI know she drains me

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-7036566859257031952009-01-23T06:11:00.001+08:002009-01-23T06:11:00.800+08:00

Did you ever get those friends who were stunningly curious about your sex life? As in overly curious? As in continuously asks you to repeat details no matter when, even when none of you are drunk and the sun is shining bright? Isn't it a little creepy? Especially when they declare they have plans for your ass or orgy cherry?Well. I had a friend like that. He's still there, I just don't consider

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-9053732904498819642009-01-22T21:22:00.001+08:002009-01-22T21:22:00.889+08:00

Dude and I were talking after sex. Tiring, exhausting sex. We were smoking cigs and the old man was quite wiped out. He suddenly lay down on the bed and then suddenly jerked back right up. He uttered a completely un-manly "eww".I looked at him. He'd just lain down on some of his own semen. I just stare at him in wonder. He goes, "well, I know why should I be grossed out, it is mine." I use the

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-68090735064795858112009-01-22T10:34:00.002+08:002009-01-22T10:34:00.902+08:00

I've been moaning and groaning about all the blah blahs of the men/fucktoys in my life for most of last year. In fact, this blog was mostly started so I could moan and groan about them in secret. I just up and decided to end it all. Commit playlist suicide. By killing them not in memory, but in the present.Yep, I no longer go to those places. I'm generally avoiding 3 drinking nightspots. I am

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-9067802323658860772009-01-21T16:19:00.000+08:002009-01-21T16:19:00.534+08:00

So yeah, I heard from a guy in a bar. The guy who said it was actually someone I was sleeping with. And yes, I have gotten texts from him before 10PM but that really didn't mean anything. Except that he was impatient and couldn't wait.Is this true? I do have some people I send SMS (SMS-es?plural form anyone?) to after 10PM. Mostly, because I get bored with whoever I'm drinking with at the moment

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-75499143931638432632009-01-21T10:52:00.000+08:002009-01-21T10:52:01.046+08:00

The things you learn online:New underwear technology has been invented to give cocks more freedom while keeping balls snug and secure! Ballbras anyone?Now you too can enjoy more semen in your life. With the economic problems, you can make money from something you're already used to ingesting. (If you're one of those that swears they have never swallowed semen, have you ever gone to a fast food

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-12185039617075716622009-01-20T11:39:00.000+08:002009-01-20T11:39:01.197+08:00

Salon recently did a feature about weird memorabilia for the new American president. And while most were the general watches and plates, one that stood out for me was the dildo.Ozam Group LLC is selling these for $34.95 each. They come in two colors: blue and gold. No black ones as Salon mentioned. But why are the colors blue and gold? Blue can be explained by USA's flag colors but gold?The

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-27272137504536345022009-01-20T04:18:00.000+08:002009-01-20T04:18:00.600+08:00

Haven't been able to find the complete lyrics to this one, I always get results of another song with the same title by a similarly-named band. But the chorus knocks my socks off:BabyAlways ready your pretty little lipsMake room for my fingertipsSo I can get caught between your legs tonight...Sadly, most of the rest is still unintelligible. I will try to decipher it ASAP.Here's the video, in case

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-31192089271826523242009-01-20T04:02:00.000+08:002009-01-20T04:02:00.245+08:00

To those that haven't seen the totally awesome Durex commercial of condom animals having wild monkey sex (though I think they kinda look more like dogs), watch it on YouTube!.

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-6396293457462811052009-01-19T10:54:00.001+08:002009-01-19T10:54:01.709+08:00

You know how y'all hate it when people blog about why their not blogging? Well, skip this post then.But no, seriously.Isn't it weird how libido/horniness/perviness suddenly disappears in the face of other things? Well, maybe it is just me. I haven't been walking the streets looking for a hot meal. I've been mostly being geeky and just staying out of trouble. It must be some New Year thing.Been

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-82788311364895244782009-01-19T03:47:00.002+08:002009-01-19T03:54:03.839+08:00

So I had just given up on sleep after one hour of sleep and the succeeding two hours of trying but not achieving sleep. Sucks how when you try harder to sleep you just can't seem to get there. The normal nipple-tweaking and fantasizing that relaxes me didn't work. So I decided to play Crayon Physics, and ended up frustrated cos apparently I finished the demo version. Decided to wake up and visit

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-83937366039987597402008-12-04T00:08:00.000+08:002008-12-04T00:08:00.580+08:00

Young boys are so cute. They are insanely horny. Even when they're practically falling to sleep they will still try to fuck. And they are so adorably weird. Especially when they encounter someone like me.He was tired and I was a little drunk. I hugged him and he managed not to let go. He was so unsure of himself, which was adorable. He didn't want to seem too eager in front of his friends.Finally

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-34951987806532322722008-12-02T23:59:00.002+08:002008-12-03T00:08:05.483+08:00

For the longest time, I've kept my hair short. It was just always easier. I didn't have to make up a fuss. It was easy to wash. And it kept me cool in this tropic country I live in.I was determined to grow it. And then a sudden decision to cut it short after an annoying encounter with a man. Now, having been fortunately (or unfortunately) shielded from any man-ache for some time, my hair is the

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8794105116862569917.post-24436953864814056262008-11-14T12:18:00.002+08:002008-11-14T12:30:21.758+08:00

The message came at 2AM. It was a simple "Hey." The number wasn't listed in my phonebook. I replied with a simple, "Who is this please." The reply was a question, confirming that I was who I was and that I owned the phone number receiving the messages. I was confused. I had no idea who this was. Then he said who he was. I smiled.It was someone from the fairly recent past. From something that I

jean greyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02759172194411726597noreply@blogger.com0