Bitchicisms

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 the second was shattered to itty-bitty pieces my first year in college.

I remember my first blow job, the dude that taught me. He demonstrated by taking my finger in his mouth and slowly sliding it in and out. So for a while that was what I did. Until I learned (pretty immediately, with the next guy after) that it's not the actual having a warm-wet-hole-wrapped-around-a-cock thing that made a good blow job. It was the actual sucking.

I think i intuited it. The next dude I blew didn't tell me exactly to suck. Oh wait, I think he did tell me to suck his cock. So I realized, it's like a freaking straw! You suck on it to get the juice! And yeah, I've been doing that ever since.

Well, I don't always feel like sucking each and every guy. It's a mood thing. Some guys you just don't feel like sucking. Mostly because you feel they're a waste of time. Yes, even when I have sex with someone, I may or may not suck them off.

It perplexed me that some girls do not know about the sucking thing. I'd recently gotten into a conversation with a friend about the term blow job face. It was referring to some girl who had high cheekbones and a perpetual pout. I didn't google the term but I intuited (yep, that's my favorite word right now) that it was referring to her hollowed cheeks. Like she always seemed she was sucking.

The friend I was having the conversation with totally did not get it. She asked "you suck your cheeks in during blow jobs?" I was completely and utterly floored. I stared for a while, lost my composure and gaped. I could not believe I had to explain it. But I did anyway.

See, when you suck on a cock, your cheeks hollow out because you're sucking pretty hard. You aren't sucking your cheeks in, but because you're sucking on something, any excess air pretty much goes out of your mouth, creating a vacuum. All that empty space between your cheeks and your gums/teeth/whatevs is sucked in. And that is how you give a blowjob. You suck on the dick in front of you.

I consulted a guy friend about this. He said some women just don't know how to give blow jobs. I know there are women out there who hate blow jobs. There are those who only do it because they have to. In exchange for cunt lick or shoes. But even if you don't know it, don't you at least theoretically know that you're not just supposed to provide a hole with your mouth? The hole has to be tight. And since you can't tighten your gums too much (because those involve teeth), you compensate by sucking in air, providing suction.

It was a sad, sad day. But seriously, doesn't anyone ever notice that in porn? I thought the Internet pretty much made sure a basic blowjob technique more accessible. I know not all guys like the intense suction, but I'm sure some suction is better than none. That was always the concept of blow jobs for me: suction and tongue. Why do other people not know this?

Yes I did watch it belatedly. I downloaded it as fast as I could, and I plan to download it after I'm done (still watching). I'm just really disturbed about Jordin Sparks. She seemed visibly agitated and even John Legend was visibly surprised.

Sure she feels passionately about those purity rings. If she wants to remain a virgin, she can do whatever the hell she wants to. But calling out people not wearing purity rings as sluts (which is, let's face it, exactly what her wording implies), is the kind of close-minded, stupid, stupid, black or white thing expected from the religious fundamentals. So she basically hurt her cause more than anything.

I recently told some dude trying to figure out how to dump a girl in the nicest way possible that he can always get out of it and be excused (in the long run) by using the emotions excuse. The explanation I gave him was that women responded to emotions, not logic.

Now, did I believe this? Yes. I am a woman after all. So I kinda know how these things work. Of course it is bad to generalize, but I do totally believe what I'm saying and it makes sense.

Women right now are told that they can do anything they set their minds too. And that is generally true. It came about from the women's liberation in the 80's. Now the field is supposed to be level. Everyone is equal. If you want it bad enough and work hard for it, you can get it.

The problem is that women tend to apply the same instinct when it comes to men. Not all women though, but in general. The things taught to us, that if we work hard enough, anything will work, doesn't apply to relationships or to men. Because men aren't really goals. They are, at best, thinking human beings with minds of their own. At worst, they're really just like dogs whose greatest achievement is not peeing on the rug (or not getting caught peeing on the rug).

The thing is, we have great instincts. I've noticed that. I think life would be much easier for me if I always follow my initial gut feeling about anything. It often is true. Around 80% of the time. This especially holds true for men. Ever felt that something was wrong? That things weren't right? That maybe you should just give up? That it really is a bad idea? Hell I always respond to these thoughts with the perpetual: But it could be really fun and turn into a cool fucking story.

Now, I've noticed that with most women, the problem is that war between the instincts and the logic. Most women know if the men they are with are dogs but they want to believe that they are not. Even when most obvious signs point to 'yes, this is fucked up', some, maybe even most, will still trudge along and try. Because trying is the best they can do. And we're taught that anything will work if you try hard enough.

A lot of the times the push-pull of emotions vs. logic overwhelm us so much. This often results in the mood swings, the flakiness, the uncertainty, the whole girly thing of 'convince me and I will do it'.

So why did I tell that guy to play the emotion card when dumping? Because women understand that pull of emotions. No matter what logical explanation you say to a woman, the pull of an emotional explanation is stronger. We know what it's like to feel something really deeply and be swayed by it despite all rational facts to the contrary.

I told the guy: If you dump her, she will hate you right now. There is no way to do that without pain. But for the least amount of pain, tell her things just happened. Speak in large ambiguous terms. Refer to destiny or the stars or how you feel. Spin it nicely. Somewhere down the line she will remember you as that guy who was just not meant to be, not that fucker who started fucking someone else.

I miss my stupid weekends. I miss my other stupid old friends. I miss the laid-back non-sexual pass times I had. I miss the non-complicated life I once had before TEL (The Evil Lives) was born. sure I wasn't getting laid then. Of course I stayed in more and only went out to meet up the boys I hung out with and I was always stressed from the job I had. But it was phenomenally less complicated.

I guess we always want what we can't have. Now that the whole fucking thing has been turned on, it's on. Old playing instincts are back and I got used to having numbers to call when the urge came. I got back into the mode of flirting. I got back the hunter instinct. Then I lost it again then I got it again then I just got really really horny all the time.

And I still miss my stupid weekends.

I always thought he was just, you know, a selfless lover. I always thought it was part of his M.O. I had believed it was part of his nature to make sure I always came first, noisily and wetly, against his thrusting, curling fingers. The first time we had sex, I came so much, he marveled at how wet his hand had become.

He always received praise from me. Not face to face though. Always when he was gone, and to anyone who asked. He was not a particularly pretty boy. He did have a nice body. And a latent penchant for sadomasochism and domination that I particularly enjoyed. He was not particularly large in the penis department, but could be very very talented. Simply put, he has great potential.

Until it came to light that it was not patience nor a sense of guilt at cheating on his girlfriend. It was apparently merely Erectile Dysfunction. Ry seems to be a 22 year old with an erectile dysfunction problem.

Now how do I solve that? Despite me being happy with being finger fucked to orgasm, I would someday like to teach him some new actual sex tricks. Any suggestions?

What the hell is up with these surgeries? There are reports that designer vaginas are becoming all the rage in Australia and New Zealand. I know men were supposed to get penile impants because they were insecure about size. Now women are having their vaginas restructured, mimicking virginity and having the entire thing rejuvinated and restored.

Is it vanity? Are we now going to join our vaginas in beauty contests? Are we going to post pictures of our genitals on social networks so we can get dates? Is that the primary thing partners now ask? Not "what you do", "where you're from" but "is your vulva perfectly symmetrical"?

I really believe in saying/doing/feeling whatever I want. And I don't believe these thoughts should be suppressed so here it goes:

• what the fuck am i gonna do with all the cheezy songs I downloaded for you? (delete it)
  
• the playlist i created for your mixed CD would've been great!
  
• i was gonna teach you the biting thing next
• i haven't even swallowed your cum yet :(
• but i am hotter than her
• i wanted to tell you something about your penis...
• sex was good but not that good
• does this mean i can give the bags to my mom?
• i wanted to take care of you
• i hope you still try to clean your room
• i liked it when you were taking care of me
• i liked it better when you were just a voice on the phone
• next time you have an affair, try ending it better
• i wanted to improve your taste in music...
• ...and in movies...
• ...and in clothes...
• i'm really not as much of a spoiled brat as you think i am
• i do think you should go back to school
• you're a nice boy, don't cheat
• i still don't believe in religion
• i kinda flinched whenever you prayed before eating, i was wondering where the hell i found you and why the hell i kept you around
  
• it was nice that you sang for/to me, that hasn't happened in a while
• i will try to sing videoke more
• i wanted to mother you
• i am still going to grow my hair longer though
• you were stifling me
• you had to ask me thrice who i was talking to?
• i am tempted to tell you to look for me when you're single, but i know i will never really take you seriously...
• ...i probably would have cheated on you...
• ...i was kind of looking forward to cheating on you actually...
• ...i felt i wanted to teach you a lesson...
  
• you should be flattered
• i think your lisp is cute
• you were...average
• making out with you in public was nice
• you pretend to be nice, when you're actually not
• you did end up making me miserable...just for a little while though
• i curse you, you will...everyone does
• you were right, you didn't deserve me
• you reminded me of my ex...
• ...and A...
• ...and kinda like Cc...
• ...but i did like you
• for no reason at all
• i was going to make you sooo good in bed
  

I seem to have lost it. Or misplaced it.

Ever since I made the not terribly smart yet horribly compelling choice to see this man steadily, my instincts have been off. I got victimized by a speedfucker. I have not accepted the blatant attempts at flirting care of H and Cc. I am unfocused and undisciplined when it comes to work. I am distracted and moody. Or maybe this is all me PMS-ing. Or maybe because he got me used to constantly talking to him. Then he got me used to constantly seeing him. Then he just went away.

Regardless. I have been all of those things recently. Insane mood swings. Acting high as a kite then low as...well...an ant that lives underground? Anyway, there I was pissed, bored, lazy, still sleepy. And a chance to play presents itself.

An old friend is online. One of the boys we used to work with. One I never got to play with.

To provide a little back story: everyone teased him about being gay behind his back. I never really thought he was actually gay, I just always thought he was weak. We got to be close before. I got to talk to him a lot because he seemed like the mature one in the group. We got to hang out one on one. Bv always said it was because this boy wanted me too.

Everything came to a head when I asked him to drop by the office. He actually lived nearby so it wasn't that much of a problem. It was just me and Bv anyway. So yes he drops by. Imagine my shock when I see him all dressed up. Fresh from the bath no less. Looking all fresh and kind of cute...

So he comes. I want to say I was prepared, except I wasn't. A number of late nights and all-nighters...I looked tired, haggard. Bv, being who he is, gave us a chance to be alone. And the opportunity was there. He was shy, wouldn't look at me. Yet he kept coming near me. Kept wanting contact, wanting proximity. And I didn't take it.

In my defense, I was thinking of taking Ak seriously at the time. And I was tired. But the hunting instinct could've been there. Prey was rubbing against the predator, yet the predator did not bite.

So the prey went home. Bv surprised, shocked and generally concerned as to why the prey slipped away. I told him I was tired. Then I told him I was distracted. Ak was on my mind at the time. And yeah, it kinda felt...not worth it?

This boy was sweet. He was kinda. But the lack of balls on his part kinda clinched it for me. Someone who can barely look you in the eye is kinda weaker. I no longer want weaker men.

So. I've been decided on the Ak issue. By Ak I mean that boy I was kinda seeing. That boy I had sort of decided I'd pursue actively despite his girlfriend. The boy who I kinda wanted to make the stupid decision for.

First I was confused about whether I would go after him. But then... I decided I would. Then I decided I wouldn't. Then I decided I'd just go with the flow. Then I decided I didn't want to be his mistress anymore. Then at the first sign that he wanted me back (after about 3 days) I went to him. Then I decided I was gunning for it. Then he disappeared.

It all started with him not doing my bidding. Not coming when I asked him to. Despite me pulling all the stops. Which upset me. Then he called after a couple of days hoping to catch me at work. But I wasn't available. Then...silence.

Silence.

Despite text messages that ask him, tell him and basically caress him into seeing me.

Silence.

Then I hear he's just been staying in. That it seems he's gotten caught by the girlfriend.

I check myself. Nope. Not that upset. Missing him of course. Yet not that upset.

Then out of the blue. A phone call. Asking some random thing. Stupid. Casual. I woke up from my nap. Disoriented. Kinda surprised/worried/excited that it was him.

He was...casual. No terms of endearment this time. Just a question. Then he hangs up. I send him an SMS teasing him about his ways.

Then he calls back. Assures me that the reason he couldn't talk was because he was busy. He was getting a haircut. I tease him about not being around then suddenly appearing again. I don't remember how he brushed the topic off. He says he has to hang up and he'll talk to me later.

I send him another SMS. Tease him about going missing.

Silence.

Sent him another message. After wrestling with myself, I decide to ask him why he went missing. I ask if he was in trouble. A clear opening for him to tell me he can't see me anymore because he got caught.

Silence.

Silence.

In the end I tell him to never bother me again.

Here are some of the reasons why I think he called:

1. He really had an important reason for asking me said random casual question. He called back because he wanted to assure me he wasn't avoiding me because...? I dunno. Any statement here aside from the dubious 'he wants to be friends' scenario doesn't fit. Why would he call back to reassure me that he didn't have time to talk but wanted to?
2. He called to ask said question because I would know the answer and he thinks we're ok. He called back for same reason.
3. He called because he misses the sound of my voice. He called back to reassure me that he'll call me again...some day.
4. He called because he knew that he had a hold on me and he wants me fucked up.

There are also these reasons why he didn't reply to my messages or call me back:

1. He became busy.
2. Girlfriend was with him
3. He was too scared to take the hint I left him. He didn't want to say it was over because he was scared of hurting my feelings.
4. He didn't want to end things because he wanted to be able to come back when and if he wanted to.
5. He just didn't think a reply was necessary.

Either way. These reasons just mean he's either a moron or an asshole. And really if those are the only two choices. Then what's the fucking point.

I meant what I said in the SMS though.

Stay The Fuck Away. We are NOT friends. We were LOVERS. Who had an AFFAIR. Let's be specific and just end it. Then I can move forward.

Each day through my window I watch her as she passes by.
I say to myself, "You're such a lucky guy."
To have a girl like her
is truly a dream come true.
Out of all of the fellas in the world
she belongs to you...

But it was just my imagination
running away with me.
It was just my imagination
running away with me...

Ooh-hoo-hoo-hooh
Soon we'll be married..
and raise a family.
In a cozy, little home out in the country
with two children, maybe three.
I tell you, I can visualize it all.
This couldn't be a dream for too real it all seems.

But it was just my imagination -- once again --
running away with me.
I tell you it was just my imagination
running away with me...

Every night, on my knees I pray,
"Dear Lord, hear my plea...
don't ever let another take her love from me
or I will surely die.."
Ooh, her love is heavenly;
when her arms enfold me,
I hear a tender rhapsody...
but in reality, she doesn't even know me

Just my imagination -- once again --
running away with me.
Tell you it was just my imagination
running away with me.
I never met her, but I can't forget her.
Just my imagination..
-- ooh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah --
running away with me

If I were playing...trying to steal someone from someone. I would normally just use whatever weapons I have at my disposal.

The first step would be to appear the best I can at all times. Whether or not I will be seeing that person. While I do try to stick to this rule at all times, it is imperative that I do this more so now. There must be a constant "wow" effect whenever I am seen. And being the best I can means: losing weight, always being sex-ready (shaved, plucked, powdered, perfumed and glowing) and getting my hair fixed (growing it out, getting the color re-done, getting it moisturized).

Aside from this I must have my own life, my own dreams, my own desires, my own stories. I do things apart and away from him. I am strong, independent, he is mostly my sign of weakness. My only and faltering sign of weakness. Everything else I have. The money, the looks, the charm, the brains. I'll show him all of it. Yet I'll still be very very sweet to him.

Why do this you say? He has got to have an idea of what he has and what he might miss.

The second would be to spend enough time to build rituals and traditions. To be a part of his everyday consciousness. To have him think and wonder. The songs he hears the movies he sees the moments he has, all tinged with a memory.

The third would be to pull away. To disappear. Poof.

Basically the main principle is to keep him guessing. Then when he knows and figures out that he really really wants it. Then he can have it. Or....er...maybe he can? maybe he can't?

I'm not really sure if there is a game, I'm not sure if there ever was a game. Has this trick worked for me? Well....with my first love....yes. I became a part of his every waking thought. Then we became a couple. Then I broke up with him.

Since then I could never really say I used this. H and V and all the others aside. I mostly just milked it for what it was worth then when there was no more milk I'd stop. That was it.

Am I using this now? Well...There is more of an incentive now to be pretty. But I haven't pulled out all the stops yet.

Suffice to say. I have no idea what I'm doing but if I wanted one the above would be it.

In an episode of 30 Rock, Jack Donaghy tells Cici that he thought she "made love like an ugly girl, so grateful..." And there is another side to that story. If people who made love like an ugly person (or at the very least, like an immature person, acted grateful, and worked hard to please their partner, then pretty people did the opposite.

I met this dude (again, take a wild fucking guess, through Bv) a couple of months back. However, I only started seeing him recently when Bv decided to intervene for me and my sex life (sometimes I begin to take that his interest in my sex life comes from his lack of a substantial one).

He was pretty, looked like a Hollywood movie star. A cute one. Not like the weird Steve Buscemi/Billy Bob Thornton weirdos I normally find attractive. This one was textbook pretty. Someone who was unanimously found hot.

Sure he talked like a language-challenged, dyslexic, retarded, wanna-be gangsta lunatic. But he wasn't stupid, he just talked like he was. And he was cute. Should've been a player, but isn't really one. One of those boys who get to play just because he's handsome and rarely gets any repeats.

That was this one. Curiously, I felt no heat from him all the times we went out. Sure nothing physical happened. Just some hand touching and he kinda touched my face...I kinda touched his hand and knee... But it was mostly stupid stuff.

Eventually we fucked. And that. Just literally ended it all.

I have, as of date, including this fucker, had sex with a whole lotta guys. And, in truth, this one, this pretty boy with the bad talking skills, was the worst of them all. Worst. End of the line. Bottom of the pile. Not worthy to lick V's boots. Nor H. Not even the scum on Cc's shoes. This meant that he was total and utter crap in bed.

I've had a couple of bad fucks. Especially in the early times. When I was running around like a little bitch. Trial and error you know. Til you hone the radar. You don' really know how to pick out the winners til you hit a couple of bad ones. Literally this man was the worst ever.

First, we did not kiss until we were in the room. Then we ended up watching TV for a couple of minutes. I was half asleep when he finally hugged me and kissed me. Then he took off my jeans and my top. He did not kiss my breasts. He did not suck my nipples. He used his finger to just mark their place in a matter-of-fact way.

Then he put his fingers on my pussy. He commented that I was dry. He sounded surprised which kind of surprised me because we had done about 30 seconds of foreplay. The idiot believed that it was because I masturbated frequently. I did. I masturbate as often as I can. No other guy I've fucked has had that problem (I actually have references on this one).

Then idiot put on a condom and went with me under the covers. He thrust inside. And I was goddamn surprised that he was small.

He has foreign blood. He's half something. Some Middle Eastern or European or some shit like that. But he was...well...just...haha hahaha hahahahaha....not big.

Then when he was inside he started thrusting. Keep in mind this is all missionary, under the covers fucking. And I know this account is boring but trust me, the actual 2 minutes of fucking was infinitely more boring than this story.

So anyway. He kept up the same slow, lackluster pace for 2 minutes. Not accelerating, not thrusting harder. just the same steady in-out, in-out action. And the fucker came. Then he climbed off, went to the restroom, threw away the condom and lay down again. I must've looked so perplexed when I saw him cos he asked me if I came. I said no. And he even asked me if I normally take a long time to come. I said "no, just tired probly (like it was my fault, but hell the fucker was making out like it was)".

I ended up sleeping. I haven't had any sleep in a while and I had a couple of alcoholic beverages so I was really just goddamn sleepy. Plus it was the most frustrating night ever. So who the fuck cares if I fell asleep?

No wonder I never felt any heat from him. He's just a fast fucker. I didn't even know he was coming. When most guys come there's a difference in tempo, or in force, or they at least tell you. This one, this idiot, this pretty boy...nothing.

This is like the guy equivalent of the girl that just lies down there and not do anything. Which sucks cos while guys can get off on a pretty girl who's really nothing more than a warm, wet hole, women need more to actually come.

Some theorize that maybe he was just having an off night. One even had the gall to joke that I was frigid. I'm sorry but I've had good two-minute fucks before thank you very much. And not all quickies are horrible. This time I just felt like I was fucked over. Like I was goddamn used.

The guy is hot. Yet he has no fucking clue. Which is why he isn't a player. Which is why real players will disregard him. Which is why I will never EVER fuck him again. One horrible waste of time was enough. That weirdo.

Pretty boys suck ass.

This song by Massive Attack was something that fucked with my brain when I was still trying to figure out what that guy meant to me.

I never fully know what I want. Half the time I don't know what I'll be doing until I do it. And I like that about myself. That I'm impulsive and half the time I barely know when I'll fight or flee. This time I think I'll f****.....

[Tracy Thorn]

Everyday brings change,and the world puts on a new face
Sudden things rearrange, and this whole world seems like a new place
Secretly i been tailing you
Like a fox that prays on a rabbitt
Had to get you and so i knew
I had to learn your ways and habits
Ooooooh, you were the catch that i was after
I looked up and i was in your arms and i knew that i was captured

What's this whole world comin to
Things just ain't the same
Any time the hunter gets captured by the game

I had to lay such a tender trap
Hoping you might fall into it
Love hit me with a sudden slap
One kiss and then i knew it
Ooooooh, my plans didn't work out like i thought
'Cause i had laid my trap for you but it seems that i got caught

What's this whole world comin to
Things just ain't the same
Any time the hunter gets captured by the game

Ah yeah, yeah yeah, hey yeah

I was aimlessly bouncing around one Saturday night. The Club bore no fuckable fruits and I was restless.

Escape and the salvation of my weekend came in the form of the evil Bv. Free drinks were available at his place, as well as the abundance of boys I had already, and could still, hook up with.

It was Ry's birthday and the entire gang was there. It was all the old cast, except for....introducing...Ak(aka A version 2.0).

Halfway between Bv's place and The Club, we met up at a Shell station. Ts and I needed to come down from our alcohol induced high because she still needed to drive home. So we stopped at a Select and waited for Bv. Bv eventually arrived, with two other guys in tow. One of them was Ak.

Apparently, when Bv saw A, he already formed a plan in his mind to some day introduce me to A's doppelganger, his friend Ak. Ak was quiet in Shell yet established himself as a clear player in the game by being very much the gentleman.

Earlier that night, when I had already determined that I was going to go to Ry's birthday drinking spree, I was determined to give him the gift of allowing him to fuck me. Sounds a little whorish I know, but Ry does do it right. And despite the fact I was really jonesing for his friend Cc, Ry was still officially my first conquest, and, as far as I knew, the rest of the group knew nothing about Cc and I.

Cc and I had not had another opportunity to fuck again. But he has been markedly sweeter and more daring in showering me with physical affection. In other words, he's been very very horny. However, neither of us seemed comfortable making any outward plans to fuck, we both seemed mildly content with groping each other as discreetly as we could and waiting for another opportunity to arise.

To many, it is still a mystery as to why I fucked Ry. But I still maintain that it was not just pure drunkenness or proximity. There was something about him i liked. Plus he has a really good lust worthy body. So anyway, I was about to offer myself as a gift to Ry. But then this Ak showed up.

When we were all already at Bv's, Ak sat near me and we started talking. I was then still determined to make it with Ry as a courtesy (what a goddamn weird notion I just realized), I was just planning to make the French exit as discreet as possible so that the Ak door will not be closed to me. Cc was also making moves to secure something special for the night. He kept groping my ass and giving me lust filled looks.

Things became interesting when I ended up seated between Cc and Ak and perpendicular to Ry. Ak was a bit tipsy, and Cc had already thrown up, but Ry was playing the role of birthday boy by being master of ceremonies.

Ak already had my hand in his while Cc's hand groped my ass. Ry looked at me and motioned me to sit beside him. This I did and I proceeded to kiss his neck. At first the birthday boy pretended he didn't like what I was doing until he groped my tit with his hand.

After I came up for air, Ak suddenly woke up and reached for me again, his eyes gently entreating me to sit beside him. Which I did. By this time Cc had already fallen asleep, or probably feigned sleep, as it seemed like the game was now between Cc and Ry.

Then Ry did something really stupid. It currently escapes me what he said or did at the time, but I know it was something to the effect of feigning he didn't want me. After that, Ak emerged as the clear choice.

So Ak and I made out and everyone, particularly Bv, practically begged us to go upstairs and get a room. So we did. At first it was just groping, since someone was asleep in the same room. After that we agreed to just go to sleep. Ak placed his arms around me as we spooned. I don't now how long this lasted, but the next thing I know, I was awake and we were kissing and there was no turning back.

We fucked. It was a quickie but it was a good quickie. And Ak was sweet. Little did I know that there was already drama going on downstairs as this was happening.

Apparently Cc went into dramatics after we left. He complained about being picked on because Bv made him admit that he had fucked me. It appeared that other people already knew, in fact, it seemed that everyone, particularly Ry knew about it. So much for Cc requesting for discretion.

Because of Cc's reaction to being made to admit he had fucked me, Ry became panicky. Cc was close to Ry's girlfriend, and Ry was afraid that Cc was going to spill. Cc was also afraid that his friends were gonna blab about his dirty deed to his girlfriend.

So everyone had dirt on everyone else, all thanks to me. And it seemed that Cc was particularly petulant and upset that I had chosen Ak. I theorized that Cc and Ry had come up with a schedule. I got Ry first, then I fucked Cc. The week after I slept with Cc, I slept with Ry again. Possibly Cc expected that he would get another go, but the appearance of Ak surprised him. As a matter of fact Ak totally blindsided me, I was totally expecting that I would end up with Ry yet it all changed in a heartbeat.

And after how things happened, I wouldn't change it. It all turned out exactly as I wanted it to.

This song is a spoof of the 90's "femme" hit Bitch by Meredith Brooks. I'm posting it because it portrayal of men/guys may be extreme yet is sometimes spot on.

I hate the new age guys
I'm a chauvinist
I live on beer and pies
Tried to tell you,
But you look at me,
like maybe I'm an angel underneath
Haven't brushed me teeth.

Yesterday I lied
But all me mates
gave me a real good alibi
Thanks guys
I really went out drinking,
I told you I was at work
Don't ask me for commitment,
'Cause it's something I will shirk

I'm a bloke,
I'm an ocker
And I really love your knockers
I'm a labourer by day,
I piss up all me pay
Watching footy on TV
Just feed me more VB
Just pour my beer,
And get my smokes,
And go away

Or take me as I am
This may mean you'll
have to fetch another can
Rest assured,
That if I start to make you breakfast
I'm going to extremes
but tomorrow I'll get shitfaced,
and today won't mean a thing

I'm a bloke
I'm a yobbo,
and me best mate's name is Robbo
Winfield is me cigarrete
I dress in flanellette
Shearer's singlet that is blue
Throw in a few tattoos,
You know you wouldn't
Want me any other way

When you think
You've got me figured out
The season's already changing

I think it's cool
When I act like a tool
And my mates try to shave me

I'm a bloke,
I'm an ocker
And I really love your knockers
I'm a labourer by day,
I piss up all me pay
Watching footy on TV
Just feed me more VB
Just pour my beer,
And get my smokes,
And go away


I'm a bloke
I'm a yobbo,
and me best mate's name is Robbo
Winfield is me cigarrete
I dress in flanellette
Shearer's singlet that is blue
Throw in a few tattoos,
You know you wouldn't
Want me any other way

One of the reasons I like hanging out with guys is because I learn things other girls don't normally learn. Like this tidbit I picked up recently from the evil Bv.

We were hanging out and drinking with a bunch of boys when one of the kids said that he was so loyal to his girlfriend that he can't even get his dick up when he has the opportunity to sleep with another girl.

That was when the evil Bv, the malevolent ring master of this little testosterone-filled boy overrun world I live in right now, pulled his chair closer to the confiding boy and imparted some of the most annoying (yet apparently effective) missives regarding cheating.

First, the evil Bv said (in a very low voice as we all knew he was scared as hell of being figured out by his ghost girlfriend) that there was a difference between being loyal and being faithful. A loyal man strays, but always comes back, like a dog. For him, it's just going around and sampling all the other offers but always returning to home. And yes, exactly like a dog.

However, being faithful on the other hand, means never cheating, never straying and never having any extra curricular relationships or activities.

Then, Bv imparted the wittle boy and the rest of the enthralled audience (including the amusing morsel I had by my side who has a girlfriend after all), with how to overcome the erectile dysfunction syndrome of first time cheaters.

There would always be that guilt involved when you do it the first time (or so Bv explains) which will cause the penis to resist the final act. So to overcome that, the mastermind Bv recommends....a blow job.

He even goes so far as to advise wittle boy to pleasure the girl first, kiss her and go down on her and make her come, then gently position her mouth on his cock to ask for a blow job so he can get hard and screw.

Wittle boy responded by saying that even his tongue seems to lose its adroitness when in that situation as he can't even French kiss properly.

To this Bv gives more sage advice, " Don't try. Don't even use you tongue. Go for the neck then the tits then kiss her there. Then that's when you go down on her and after she comes you maneuver her like this." Yes Bv goes so far as to demonstrate how to hold the girl until she's ready to give a blow job.

Bv is a very dear friend. And the only thing keeping me from dismissing this entire thing as anti-female hogwash was my drunkenness and the thought that girls can use this too. But seriously, if you really wanted to cheat then maybe your body parts would cooperate?

I gave a thought to serious cheaters and they didn't seem to have any problems, and I can totally respect and relate to wittle boy and his uncooperative penis. One thing that I forgot to ask was if wittle boy even liked the girl who he could've fucked if his penis had only cooperated.

It's funny whenever guy friends tell me when I mention that I, or any girl, is feeling particularly low or angry or upset that the girl just needs to get laid. Evil Bv once even said that women need to have sex regularly. I corrected, "Not sex. Orgasms." Then I proceeded to sing, "I have two hands, the left and the right..."

I guess it's different for guys. Especially those with an excess in alcohol and testosterone. Some random dude recently told me that he got into a fight cos he was so pissed and he wanted to fuck. Which was insane for me. Because honestly, What's more stupid than getting into a fight for no reason? Well, getting into a fight for stupid reasons.

This random dude also ended up treating me like shit the day after the fight. And it just perplexes me the kinds of stupid things guys do when they're drunk or horny or whatever. The stupidest thing I've done when under the influence of my libido was to...well...persuade my friends to chase after some random bikers from north to south of the greater metro manila area. Okay, well that may have been really stupid, but I was young at that time, a mere 19 years old.

I've always wanted to go into a girlie bar. It always perplexed me that with the number of guy friend I have I've never been to a proper girlie bar. I've never been to a gay bar either but that's different because I have seen several penises in my life already and I know what to expect.

Vaginas though. Well, that's something new. Several different vaginas are something.

I was the one who wanted to go to Air Force One, a high-end strip club, for my birthday. Yet that didn't push through cos it was so expensive. I told friends I wanted to go there because I wanted to see girls who would definitely be hotter than me (I was having a high self-esteem moment then).

Anyway, opportunity knocked when evil Bv attempted to cancel a thing the other night. It was because he and his guy friends wanted to go to a strip club and I had told him earlier in the night that I wasn't in the mood for one. Despite my craving for some hard core clubbing loving I made my way over to Quezon Avenue and entered a strip clob/girlir bar for the very first time.

I peered in the fishbowl, I was the only non-stripper/non-floor manager girl to use the ladies room and a bunch of mildly cute yuppie looking guys stared at me as we left in my SUV. It was hardly as fun as I expected it to be. Probably because it was a cheap club (though the cover charge cost me more than a night at Prince of Jaipur though less than a night at Embassy/Alchemy) and the girls all looked...well...cheap.

Nobody used the freakin pole while I was there and there was this weird dance number with guys and girls and a lot of Dirty Old Men and their drivers. Well, we left pretty early. It was an experience. Didn't get turned on that much though. Though the last dancer was kind of good.

Some of the girls seemed to enjoy it in a sad drugged up kind of way, some seemed used to it and resigned to it, some just didn't care. It was a meat market with a definite price. Unlike the hunting grounds of clubs and bars, there's no bargaining here, everything's at a fixed price.

Hating on 2 people:

1) O. For some stupid insane thing he did which culminates a series of stupid insane and offensive things he has been doing to me these past few days. He will never touch me ever fucking again. That maniacal inconsiderate insecure fucked up asshole.

2) Ry. I hung out last night with the boys in a vain attempt to get Bv to drink since we haven't seen each other in ages. However, despite the fact that I was being nice to all the boys, Ry stuck out like a sore asshole because he was pretty much snobbish and mean to me the entire night. Except when he wanted to ask for cigarettes that is. And I am beginning totally hate him. We're fine when he's drunk and groping me, but when push comes to shove he's just another stupid motherfucking boy.

There's something in common with both boys. They both...

1) ...at one time or another, cheated on their respective significant others with me.
2) ...hit on me the first time they ever saw me.
3) ...have had problems dealing with the acts after.

And I hate them why? Because they are just so fucked up and I don't understand why they have to be passive-aggressively mean and I will no longer stand for it. These motherfuckers will not be able to fuck me or ask for any sexual favors from me, unless a major change comes.

As for O, I think it's too late. I've tried my damndest best to be his friend but he has proven time and again that he thinks I'm basically a piece of crap.

When 2007 rolled to a close I made a pledge to never be guilty. This means two things: that I would never do something I would be guilty of and that I would never be guilty of things I do.

Coming fresh off a conversation with O wherein he basically tells me I am a talkative slut, I feel kind of guilty that he is ashamed because some people know about him. And because he is mentioned in this blog.

A part of me is thinking: He has been objectified. And he does not like it.

Another part of me is thinking: Oh god. I've messed up a friendship.

He claims I talk too much. And that I am fuck and tell. I try to tell him that it doesn't matter if other people know that we've been groping or not. All that matters is how people know him.

He does not accept that. And kind of berated me. For how I am and how I live my life.

One of the banes of our friendship has always been his perception of me and his deeply ingrained conservative and somewhat chauvinistically male personality. Now as I come from this conversation which has somewhat drained my resources, I come to see the fact that he has been an asshole lately. He knows I adore him so and as such often takes advantage of that. He is lax and inconsiderate and I am often his examples for his stories on what is wrong with this or that.

And I suddenly realized, why am I so goddamn affected? Why do I even want to be this man'[s friend? And why do I even take his penis in my mouth.

Fuck his shame and his embarrassment. It is not my fault that he has placed his penis in my mouth. And at least I was finally honest with him, maybe I shouldn't have been a hundred per cent honest. Maybe I should've just kept this all to myself. Then I just realized: FUCK THAT.

His parting words were that this was why he never slept with me, because I was fuck and tell. And that he was right in his judgment. Yes. He is right. Because if any man I ever slept with said those words to me. I would've slapped him til he bled to get the hypocrisy out.

Never. Ever. Will I place that man's penis inside my mouth. Never ever will I show an inch of concern. And never, no more doting or favors or goddamn fucking anything.

If he needs to judge other people as wrong or bad or evil to feel right to feel better about themselves, then let him use other people to do so. I am tired of being judged. And I am tired of being used.

I will be guilt free. No matter what. It's not my fault he likes getting blow jobs. So don't blame me. It's my mouth, my experience, my right to say and do and write whatever the fuck I want about that experience.