Bitchicisms

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 random people. These people are mostly never random. They are people you like. "Like" meaning in the context of wanting to get to know them, wanting to actually drink and converse with them, or wanting to sleep with them. A couple replied. One guy had work that night. Another dude was going to Den. And despite the fact I adore that man (One of the best players I've ever met. That word does not even begin to do him justice. and yes, I am a fan) I was not going to set foot in Den again any time soon (mostly cos of this).

One Dude did reply. He was drinking somewhere in the north, and asked what I was doing. The messages turned into a teasing game, with him giving the ominous reply "why, what do you want to do?" I gave a totally safe answer. Casual, platonic and friendly. Right notes of drinking buddy and carefree girl.

I arrived at there drinking session early in the AM. He introduced me to his friends. And I proceeded to platonic the shit out of him. He would put an arm tentatively on the back of my chair, the hand would dangle dangerously close to my shoulder. His hands would also move dangerously close to the territory of my exposed thigh. He would also look at me and smile. And i DID NOTHING.

No moves. No intentions, no nothing. I was innocent and meek and demure and all those other adjectives that are rarely associated with me. Or only associated with me when I'm tired or shy. He finally excused us from his friends and we went inside. I appeared at his mercy. He offered to make me something to eat. I said yes. Then he offered me a bed to sleep in cos I looked tired. And, he promised not to kiss me.

We did sleep in the beginning. Again, lying in the same bed, I did nothing. I was demure. I was innocent. I was THE NICE GIRL. I did sleep. After a couple of hours, I decided to go home. I tried to wait til he woke up a little.

I said his name, he turned to me with a hug. He closed his eyes and smiled. I did take the initiative there and gave him a small kiss. Which he responded to until it turned into a full-on make-out session. He stopped and said "sorry" and something to the effect of "you're just so hot."

I replied with a "no problem."

Then we started kissing again. It started with one of my small kisses. Then his hands started roaming. Whenever he would try to reach for my hips, I'd push his hands away. I'd say, "no, stop," with a little-girl-please-don't smile in my voice. "I have to go home," I reasoned

Finally, he climbed on top of me and declared that he was going to violate me. I still struggled a little, maintaining that light tone of voice. He started grinding his hips against me. I tried to stifle my moans, but of course, I could never stop those things.

When he noticed I was still struggling, he asked if I really had to go home or I just didn't want to do it. I looked at him with wide eyes. He said, with a wicked smile, "this won't take long."

I took off my own underpants.

The Internet really has everything for anyone. This confirms it. Even though the site caters specifically to men on men fantasies, it gets me. I love nipples. Love them.

This site makes me wanna cream.

In the midst of this weird fluctuating weight issue due to an insane work schedule I am suddenly craving meat. And yes, my mother thought it best to indulge me by buying me my favorite meat in a bun meal: JolliHotdog. Yes I'm one of those who grew up on Jollibee fast food.

Now I'm a bit concerned as I really don't have much time to do any sort of physical activity. I am still trying to work out my schedule and routine for this whole business. And yep I get one of those days when I begin to doubt every flattering thing that has been ever said about me.

I realize that I need to first accept and love who I am before I can change. And I come up with this mantra:

I am a hot, beautiful, smart, fuckable woman.
Anybody would be lucky to get into my pants.
Everyone wants to fuck me.
I am hot.
And fuckable.
There is nothing I can't do.
There is no one I can't do.
I am extremely fuckable.

And I vow to learn this to live it to love it. Because confidence works. And attitude works. And everything else will follow.

And yes, because I am totally fuckable.

There's an asteroid we want to add to our orbit. Nice girl. Cool. Laid-back. Cute. Emphasis back on nice girl. As in really nice. Read as we met her parents the first time we ever asked her to hang out and drink with us. She doesn't seem particularly smart but she looks like she can be groomed to follow in, eherm, our footsteps. The corruptible kind of girl.

You know the type. Looks cute, but not that striking. Charming kind of, easy to talk to, easy to get along with, minimal expectations. The kind you want to take under your wing and teach things to. Then do things to. Ti-hee.

Corruptible girl. We have things planned for you.

People like spouting the word karma. I guess because it's such a convenient reason to give when you're being asked why you're not doing something which feels great but is potentially evil. The word's been used several times by people who are seeking a sort of schadenfreude (happiness at the misery of others) in exchange for the hurt a specific person has caused them.

It's now come to light that a person orbiting the periphery of The Evil Lives (JG and Bv) has been dealt with some mighty smiting karma. And yes schadenfreude can be heard in the clickity-clack of my keyboard.

This stone in orbit fancies itself as a bright gleaming star shot across the heavens on some mythological arrow of hotness. I guess it didn't get the memo shooting stars are just rocks falling down really really fast.

Stone has made things strained between everyone for some time now. It was the one who decided friendships should be terminated because it felt uncomfortable. It also made the decision that one-half of TEL (The Evil Lives) is an evil twat and that the other is basically an interloper who must not be trusted. This despite the fact that TEL has done their best to be as nice to her as possible. Oh, and where does all this TEL hate stem from? A boy. A little twerp of a boy.

Twerp has what we unanimously yet ambiguously define as a Loser Vibe. Yep, he reeks of Loser scent. Which basically smells like Axe, midnight tears, dried semen (from masturbation) and stale ciggies. Stone is totally into Twerp, and it has stated it's belief that Twerp is totally into her too.

Now, it has come to light that Twerp is actually into and fucking someone else. And this TEL knows but will never (tee-hee) come right out and tell Stone. We find it funny because Stone made things strained with TEL despite our efforts to reach out. And Stone is overly protective of Twerp at TEL's expense. I guess in time she'll find out for herself. If the Twerp ever gets around to telling her that she's been dumped.

I feel bad for her, sort of. But man, chick before dick baby. Never let it be the other way around.

I want a sex scene like the one in Fight Club. All blurry and intense. Probably need some drugs to achieve that. And a man who can fuck as hard as Tyler Durden. And I need to sport fuck as much as Marla Singer.

I always thought that the best compliments are those given by those who know what they're talking about. So when a person I find hot calls me hot, then that means something.

I have had a pretty good winning streak when it comes to sex. Most (not all) of the men I've slept with have gone back around looking for it. Most all of them come back. Most all of them want it again. Plus the fact I've been fucking young boys, this mostly means that I get complimented a lot.

They're all easy. Too easy in fact. I'm kind of getting tired of how easy it is to get laid nowadays (wait til I stop getting it, then I'll start complaining there's no one to sleep with). I've gotten used to Ak complimenting me. To Cc trying to fondle me stealthily. To Ry awkwardly trying to get into my pants. To that speedfucking dude trying desperately (and unwittingly) to get into my pants. But when someone you consider a master compliments you, that's something.

H told me recently that sex with me was always great. And, as I see it, there was no reason for him to lie. Fuck I was already naked with him when he said that. There was also this conversation:

H: Would you be offended if I told you whenever I see you I think about sex?

JG (Jean Grey): No.

H: Whenever I see you I think about sex.

JG: I thought you always thought about sex. What do you mean?

H: It's just that when I see you or think about you I think 'I wonder what she's gonna teach me next?'

JG: Really? But...You're more....advanced....in years...

But yeah I was happy. Flattered. Of course young boys may think I'm good but when it comes to H, it's actually a compliment. Cos he has had more girls. And he's quite good himself. I think its just the chemistry.

I forgot to tell him I thought about sex whenever I thought about him too...