Dirty talk

She was an extremely horny woman. She loved sex. As in, she really loved sex. And she loved doing it with me. She would call mornings to ask me when I would be free. And when we would meet, she would insist to go to one of the “flower” group motels in Pasig because it had mirrors on the wall and on the ceiling. She really enjoyed watching us have sex.

She also enjoyed talking dirty, most especially in Tagalog. While I am atop of her and inside her, pumping my cock in her, our faces just inches from each other, she would whisper in my ear, “Talk to me in Tagalog.” And I would gleefully comply. For every dirty Tagalog word I said, she would moan louder.

“Ang sarap mong kantotin,” I would say.

She would respond, “Ang libog ko para sa iyo.”

“Putang-ina ka. Kantotin mo ako.”

And she would repeat the word over and over again. “Kantot . . . kantot . . . kantot . . . ” It would reach a cresecendo until she would finally erupt in orgasm.

There’s something about dirty Tagalog words that sound . . . well . . . filthy. I guess it’s because we hear the words fuck often. We hear it in movies, we hear it in rap songs, we hear it in the youth of today, we hear it in jest among friends. I remember the joke about fuck being one of the most versatile words in the English language.

It can be used as a verb, both transitive (John fucked Mary) and intransitive (Mary was fucked by John). It can be an action verb (John really gives a fuck), a passive verb (Mary really doesn’t give a fuck), an adverb (Mary is fucking interested in John), or as a noun (Mary is a terrific fuck). It can also be used as an adjective (Mary is fucking beautiful) or an interjection (Fuck! I’m late for my date with Mary). It can even be used as a conjunction (Mary is easy, fuck she’s also stupid).

The word fuck can describe pain, pleasure, love, and hate. It can communicate a wide range of emotions like approval (“Fuck yeah!”) aggression (“FUCK YOU!”), apathy (“I don’ give a fuck”), and, most frequently, astonishment (“What the fuck?”)

But you don’t hear the word kantot often.

I get a sense that women prefer Tagalog over English in the bedroom. Is it because English sounds more intellectual and thus more clinical while Tagalog sounds vulgar and thus more passionate? Romantic sex – the kind you do with soft ballad music or the songs of Marvin Gaye – call for fine wine and lyrical poetry. Wild, frantic, feral sex calls for hard rock, bright lights, hard liquor, and uncouth and unabashed verbage. The phrase make love to me is the romanticized version of fuck my brains out, and the latter, being more raw and animalistic, gets my blood rushing more than the romantic former. The more vulgar the language, the natural it is. After all, there’s less passion in I want to copulate with you versus I want to fuck you.

Do you know that there is an Urban Dictionary definition of the word kantot? Even the the definition sounds dirty – ang paglabas-pasok ng tite sa puke o sa puwet o sa kahit na anong butas ng katawan. Or in English, “the repeated insertion of the penis inside the vagina or ass or any of the body’s orifaces.” You have to admit, the Tagalog version sounds much much raunchier. Synonyms for kantot include hindot and kadyut. I should probably use those words as well.

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Bong Revilla is either corrupt, stupid, or dishonest

Or all three.

First of all, let’s be clear. Bong Revilla isn’t innocent. According to the news, the majority ruling is that the prosecution did not do its job, that is to prove that Revilla is guilty beyond reasonable doubt. Innocence is presumed and burden is on the prosecution to prove otherwise. I haven’t read the ruling in detail, but I suppose they couldn’t establish a clear connection from Napoles to Cambe to Revilla.

The majority decision ruled as only circumstantial the AMLC report which showed that from 2007 to 2010, a total of P87 million was deposited to Revilla accounts, with each deposit made within 30 days of when star witness Benhur Luy gave the kickbacks to former Revilla staff Richard Cambe

So the guy goes free, but let’s not mistake his freedom as proof of him being pure and upright.

Besides, he was ordered to return the cash. So it’s proven that it isn’t his money.

But say for the sake of argument that Revilla was clueless about the money appearing in his accounts. What does that say of him?

If you discover that a shitload of money unexpectedly appeared in your bank account, wouldn’t you wonder where it came from? If you didn’t wonder and you thought that was just manna from heaven or that was actually your salary as a government official, then you are ignorant. That’s not the way the world works.

And if, upon investigation, you found out that it came from unscrupulous dealings from unscrupulous characters, wouldn’t you report it? Wouldn’t you fire whoever employee is handling your accounts? If you didn’t, then that makes you dishonest.

If I discover unexplained cash in my account, I investigate where it came from. If it’s a mistake, say a friend made an error, I return the excess. And I’m sure that if the bank made an error, they’ll exhaust every effort to recover the money.

So Bong Revilla is unfit for office. He is either corrupt, stupid, or dishonest. Possibly all three.

And if you vote for him, I can say the same for you.

(Image courtesy of Philippine Star)

Thoughts about the Ateneo – UP basketball finals

Just a few thoughts on my mind as we eagerly wait for Game Two of the Ateneo Blue Eagles versus the UP Fighting Maroons.

Will we see UP history?

My fearless prediction is that Ateneo will take Game Two and thus the championship. In Game One, UP was shooting triples left and right, showing why they are number one in offense. Ateneo, on the other hand, did not show why they are the number one team in defense. In other words, UP gave it their best but Ateneo was not at their best, yet they won, albeit not as convincing as before. I am sure Tab Baldwin will adjust and I am sure Ateneo will play better. If both teams play their best, Ateneo will come out the better team.

UP deserves to be in the finals

Despite my prediction, I am not selling UP short. They may have had dismal standings in the last few years, but this year’s Fighting Maroons are a force to reckon with. They are the top offensive team. They have a solid team. They are gutsy. They are formidable. And they are hungry for a championship. They will be a powerhouse team next year when they are joined by Ricci Rivera and Kobe Paras. If they all get to gel together, I am sure UP will be back in the Final Four.

Luto?

In all UAAP games, the crowd always feels that the refs are not on their side. In Game One, I saw questionable calls on both sides. But believe me, I have seen worse officiating.

Many UP fans are commenting on the many calls of “improper bench decorum” and “complaining.” If you have watched other basketball games, you would have known that these are common infractions cited by the referees.

Admittedly though, that technical foul awarded to Ateneo was based on UP violating a “cooling off” rule. According to the league rules, you aren’t allowed to approach any of the officials during halftime and at the end of the game. Apparently, UP team patron and former Cavite governor Jonvic Remulla was guilty of the infraction. Was he aware of that “cooling off” rule? And should he even be on the court?

Spocky Farolan

There is currently some controversy regarding comments made by UP Board of Regents member Frederick “Spocky” Farolan suggesting violence against the Ateneo Blue Eagles. He posted a cryptic message predicting that three Ateneo players will be injured before Game Two. He then followed this up by calling for UP fraternities to assault the Ateneo players as well as an all-out brawl with Ateneo fraternities as halftime entertainment.

Unsurprisingly, the guy is a Duterte appointee.

And people wonder why the students urged us to wear black.

Fortunately for all of us, UP dropped the hammer on him. They are no longer renewing his role in the Board of Regents.

That 70s show

On a related note, I came across a thread of messages wherein face-to-face threats were thrown by a UP female supportersome UP guy punched an Atenean while they were on the way to the escalator.

Those type of antics is so 1970s. Even with our most heated rival, the De La Salle Green Archers, we have never resorted to threats of violence. In the past, yes. But today? Trash-talking, yes. Threats of fisticuffs, no.

Ange Kouame vs Bright Akhuetie.

That Ange Kouame foul on Bright Akhuetie was truly unintentional. Pushing and nudging naturally happen as players jostle for position. Akhuetie’s foot was just planted at an awkward position.

You have to remember that these are young men playing, especially for Kouame who hails from Ivory Coast and this is just his first year playing in the Philippines. He is a foreigner in a foreign land. He has probably never experienced a coliseum full of rabid fans screaming their heads out. Poor guy got rattled. Thumbs up to Bright Akhuetie for reaching out and consoling Ange. Let’s see both teams in top form!

You want to see an intentional foul? Watch the Ateneo – FEU game, around the time with 8 minutes to go, and watch Alec Stockton dish it out on Thirdy Ravena. Now that’s dirty basketball.

Sports and politics

On the eve of the UAAP men’s basketball finals, the student councils of both schools, the ADMU Sanggunian and the UP Diliman USC, issued out a joint statement urging everyone to wear black as a protest against violence, impunity, and misogyny. A number of people reacted, citing that politics has no business being in sports.

I love watching sporting events. Athletes never fail to inspire me. Athletes show what human beings are capable of achieving. Athletes demonstrate fortitude and endurance. Athletes demonstrate grit. Athletes transcend physical barriers, many times through sheer willpower. Athletes remind me that endurance is something both physical and mental. Athletes are a testament of the importance of long-term training, of sacrifice and perseverance. I always tell people that the true pain and sacrifice in running a marathon is not the 42-kilometer run but the months of pounding the pavement, months of accumulating mileage, months of waking up before the sun rises, months of gasping for breath, months of muscle aches and feet blisters, all leading up to one day and a few hours of running.

Before let’s be honest. We aren’t naive. Ever since Marcos was ousted, we have reached new heights of violence and EJKs against the poor, assaults and harassment against women, and arrogance and impunity of those in power. We know that Ateneo and UP are really throwing a jab at the Duterte administration. And I’m sure that the DDS ilk know it. That’s why a number of them are reacting.

So yes, this is political.

I know many don’t want sports and politics to mix, but complaining about this is like a rowboat battling the onslaught of massive ocean waves. Face it, in any event that has multitudes of people in one place, you are sure that someone is going to use that event as a platform to speak out for or against something. It could be for a globally-acknowledged humanitarian cause like a fight against climate change or AIDS. It could be a controversial politically-charged message like the aforementioned fight against impunity or a rallying cry for clean elections. Or it could be a politico being epal and campaigning to be elected. Sports is no exception to this. I’ve seen many running events where it is to support a certain campaign — run for cancer, run for the RH Bill, run for women’s rights, run to support the PNP, and even run to support a mayor’s city efforts.

I am not surprised by this. I grew up in a world where politics and sports are perennially intertwined. I remember the infamous black power salute of 200-meter runners Tommie Smith and John Carlos in the 1968 Olympics. I remember being shocked when I heard about the Israeli hostage crisis in the 1972 Munich Olympics. I said to myself, this is supposed to be a global sports event meant to establish friendship and camaraderie among nations! Sadly, that notion of “global camaraderie through sports” all went away when US boycotted the Moscow Olympics as a protest against Russian invasion, a move that the Soviet Union counteracted by boycotting the Los Angeles Olympics. Now I look at the Olympics as a stage where the countries can showcase their might and power.

So I don’t mind when sports and politics mix. It’s easier stomach it if I truly love the sport like UAAP basketball or FIFA football (no, not US football!) or if the athlete is someone I admire like Muhammad Ali or Magic Johnson.

But I draw the line when the politics overshadow the sport. That’s part of the reason why the Olympics have lost their flavor with me. I had also once admired Manny Pacquiao and I used to buy tickets to movie houses to watch his fights. My friends and I would hold breakfast get-togethers to watch his fight in pay-per-view cable TV. Now that he has entered the political arena, his fights no longer fascinate me.

When I signup for runs, I pay attention to the cause that the run is sponsoring. For example, I did not participate in these Del Run events because I find it too blatant a political campaign.

So if you don’t like the politicization of sports, then the solution is simple. Instead of whining and complaining, simply don’t watch or participate.

Trolling

Mia once told me that I troll too much. She was right. I do troll a lot. And looking back, it consumed time and energy, achieving little in the end.

The history of the use and etymology of the word “troll” is in itself interesting. In fairy tales and role-playing games, trolls are depicted as ugly, dim-witted, troublesome creatures. Trolls figure in Norse and Scandinavian folklore and depending on the source, trolls are either dwarves or giants.

Before the internet and social media, to troll meant to drag a lure from a moving boat. In 1972 the term “trolling for MiGs” was documented in use by US Navy pilots in Vietnam, referring to the use of decoys against MiG fighter planes. Trolling back then meant deception. The meaning carried on to today’s world, where trolling means to ensnare someone into a digressive, emotional, oftentimes ridiculous and nonsensical debate.

I’ve resolved to avoid trolling. It is a waste of time and effort, resulting to nothing, achieving nothing, contributing nothing. Looking back at my trolling activities, I did it mainly for amusement, to get certain type of individuals all riled up. It was for me part diversion from the humdrum of everyday life and part ego masturbation. Some people, myself included, troll to demonstrate superior wit and intelligence. But to what end? And besides who cares? In the grand scheme of things, I am no celebrity nor an I am influencer and my one snarky tweet gets buried in the avalanche of other’s tweets and is quickly forgotten. At one time I even believed, in my arrogance, I could change people’s opinions by engaging in a debate with them. I realize now that is futile. People’s minds will not change because of some anonymous blogger with a few thousand Twitter followers. People’s opinions and beliefs are formed by ideas inculcated and fermented through years and years of experience, upbringing, and education. A person’s belief is a tied closely to that person’s sense self-worth. Religion is probably the most difficult belief systems to overthrow. If people had spent many painstaking years of belief in an omnipotent deity, it will take more than just a twitter post to convince them that they were wrong for all these years.

To paraphrase that blockbuster movie: Once a fully-formed belief has taken hold of the brain, its almost impossible to eradicate.

Memories and death

Many years ago I had to undergo surgery. As the doctor injected the anesthesia in me, he asked me to count backwards from 100. I don’t think I reached 98. When I woke up, the surgery was complete and I felt the throbbing pain where the incision was. I looked at the wall clock and saw that I was out for a total of 4 hours. I barely even realized that I lost 4 hours of my life. It was instantaneous, like someone spliced off a portion of a CCTV recording. It’s not even comparable to the flick of a light switch. With a light switch, the lights are on, then a split second of darkness, then the light is back on. When you get knocked out, it’s like having the lights on without realizing that at some point the lights were off. The experience is surreal.

I had an office mate who experienced a memory blackout. He did not faint or lose consciousness. He looked and acted normal. He did his morning workout, showered, dressed, drove to work, arrived at his office promptly at 9 am, then sat on his desk and went about his business. It was at 10 am when all hell broke loose at our floor. He started screaming, babbling incoherently, asking why he was here and what had happened. When I walked out of my room, I saw people trying to restrain him, telling him to sit and calm down. He was ranting that the last thing he remembered was putting on his running clothes. Apparently the gap in time made him panic.

I don’t blame him. Imagine yourself in his situation. At one point, you are lacing up your running shoes and —boom!— you are at work, dressed in office attire. I can only imagine how unnerving this would feel. Your brain could not process the two disjointed events. There is no progression, no sequence of events. You blink your eye and suddenly you are someplace else.

And this is why I laugh at movie scenes where the hero is struck by a blow to the head, knocked out, and when he regains consciousness, he knows that he was struck down. In reality, the last thing he would remember is the seconds before he was struck down. If he were walking down an alley when someone hit him, that would be the last thing he would remember. So from his perspective, he was walking and then, as if he were transported magically by Star Trek technology, he finds himself on a hospital bed with a headache. That is why some patients have to be restrained when unconscious.

When I was at school, my classmates and I would play this “game.” It’s actually quite dangerous so do not attempt this. One classmate, usually a hunky one, would hug another from behind, and then, at the count of three, squeeze tightly the way a python would squeeze its prey. Then everyone else would gang up on the classmate and push at his chest for about 10 secnds. Basically we would shut off his oxygen and render the classmate unconscious. Yes I know this was dangerous but we were a rowdy group of immature kids who did not know better. The classmate would slump to the ground and then after a few seconds he would wake up. When they did this to me (yes, I consented to it), it was both scary and exhilarating. I heard the countdown, I heard people laughing and giggling, and then I felt my torso being crunched as it it were on a vise. There was a massive weight on my chest as my classmates bore down on me as if they were pushing a heavy vehicle. The next thing I remember I was down on the floor and everyone was staring at me with naughty grins on their faces. They all burst in laughter when I awoke. I was out for about a minute, they later told me.

I think about this now because a family member recently died. He died of a heart attack. People close by recalled how he suddenly clutched his chest and collapsed. Doctors later told me that he would not have felt the heart attack. “It’s like you just lost your breath,” he said. So just like that it’s lights out and he doesn’t know it. You can’t say “Hey, I’m dead.” There’s no consciousness. There’s no processing.

I’m not a religious man. I don’t believe in heaven and hell. I don’t believe in spirits or the afterlife. I don’t believe in seeing a tunnel with a light at the end. When you die, you are dead. And when you die, you would not know you are dead.

I know this is morbid to some people, but if you realize that there is no afterlife and there is no pain and there is no realization that you are dead, then it gives you all the more reason to live life to the fullest. Someone told me that death is actually painful only to those you leave behind. A child would have lost their father. A wife would have lost her husband. A friend would have lost a friend.

If you care about the people you leave behind, then that should dictate the type of life you live and the type of risks you take.

Live life for your sake but avoid your death for theirs.

Tips on having sex with someone you just met

When I first meet someone, it rarely ends up to sex. For one, I don’t often approach and pick-up women. I am wary about getting personal with strangers. Moreover, I figure that my success rate would be quite low. I don’t sport movie-star looks and I am no Adonis. I don’t cause heads to turn or kill conversations when I walk into a room.

When I first meet a woman I am attracted to, I always try to befriend her even if my intentions are purely carnal. This means lots of conversations as well as days, even weeks, of messages through text or chat apps. My charm and wit have always been my arsenal. Plus, sex is much more fun if you know the person.

But once in a while I get lucky. Often it is in a bar or in a corporate event. Sometimes it is in a friend’s birthday party. We get introduced by a common friend. Or if I am enticed by her, I walk up to her and introduce myself with a simple “Hi. How are you?” None of those cheesy pickup lines like “You look like my ex-girlfriend” or “Do you watch [insert lame TV series]?” We chat, maybe trade business cards (this is mostly to show I am no scumbag), have a few drinks, have coffee afterwards, and it is off to a private room. I’m old-school when it comes to meeting women. But I’m sure that in this age of Tinder and WeChat, meeting a sex partner has become much easier than in my younger days.

Now let’s say you met someone and decided to take the plunge and agree to go in a private room with them. It is still good advice to be on your guard. There are plenty of jerks and assholes around. There are even sinister individuals and nefarious groups of boys (yes, boys because real men do not take advantage of women) who take pics and videos to show-off their conquests and blackmail their companion.

So here are a few tips that I have gathered from escorts I dealt with. Escorts, especially the celebrity and model types, are meticulous when it comes to protecting their reputations and privacy. I once had a regular escort who was a well-known club spinner who also doubled as a car-show and photo shoot model. She always dimmed the lights. If my laptop were open, she would request that it be closed. If I had a tablet propped up, she would request to place it face down on the table. She was always wary of the LED clocks and she even requested to turn it away from the bed.

Get a motel room. Don’t go to his house, his condo unit, or a pre-reserved hotel room. He could have cameras setup or even friends hiding inside closets.

Do it with the lights closed. This should make any video-recording difficult.

Avoid drugs and limit alcohol consumption. You have to be constantly aware and alert of what is going on.

Always use a condom. ‘Nuff said.

Pay attention to your belongings. Keep all your stuff in one place. If the room has a safe, use it. Your mobile phone has to be beside you.

Be wary of electronic devices, and especially those facing the bed. There are plenty of electronic devices that have hidden cameras inside.

Don’t agree to have your picture taken, most especially in compromising situations. Say no to nude pics.

Do not fall asleep. The aforementioned escort got her phone stolen when she fell asleep with someone she met in a club. She only discovered this when she got home.

Do not allow him to bring you home. If you are in a motel, ask for a cab. Or hail a Grab vehicle. If he offers you a ride, have yourself dropped at a coffee shop or a familiar drop-off point.

Do you have other tips to share?