photo of the day: Neck exercise

girl look at that body....

He’s getting married (Youngblood, Philippine Daily Inquirer)

this is from another blogger sublimestthings
tissue please :/



TODAY, I will attend an execution: my own. I will watch it with both eyes open and I will not cry. I will not break down just because the man I have loved since forever will marry someone else. I will watch him promise himself to a woman who will never love him like I have. I will watch them bind themselves to a vow I should have taken.

I have loved Oliver almost all my life. I have known him since I saved his six-year-old hide from a bully named Ricardo who wanted to rid him of his two yellowed front teeth. I was five at the time, but having grown with five older brothers and a hellion of a sister, ”Totoy Cardo” was a piece of cake.

Oliver was so overcome with embarrassment at having a girl to protect his scrawny neck that from that time on he made it a point to be the rescuer, not the rescued. As time passed, muscles filled out this lanky frame and those two front teeth began to sparkle. He combs his hair, and he takes a bath daily now. In short, he has become a fine specimen of manhood.

The best part is, he lived up to his promise: he became my self-appointed guardian (well, I don’t know if that’s the best or the worst part). He was just always there, sticking to me like glue. It used to drive me nuts that he never let me out of his sight.

When I was 12, I ran from the infirmary on my way home. I had found out in the most humiliating way that I had become a woman: there was a big red stain on the back portion of my skirt. The jeers and the taunts followed me through the school corridors. Oliver dashed after me and offered to accompany me home. I declined, of course. He seemed to understand my discomfiture and promised to drop later with the things left in school. When I reached home I was told that I needed to jump three times on the stairs (which I did) and to wash my face with my blood (which I didn’t do).

Oliver dropped by in the afternoon, sporting a black eye and a bruise on his arm. When I asked him what happened, he said he had walked into a closed door. I believed him. But a few days later, minus the dysmennorhea, I found out that Oliver got into fisticuffs because some guy made a disgusting remark about me.

Nobody had ever fought for me before that. And when you’re 12 and discussing in class how King Arthur and fairest of them all, Lancelot, fought for Guinevere’s love, you tend to get ideas. I loved Oliver then.

When we were in high school and I found out that the school’s heartthrob and one of my most ardent suitors, Richard, was involved with a bustier girl, it was to Oliver that I ran. When I didn’t graduate as valedictorian and I got so drunk, it was Oliver who took me home. He didn’t even mind that I barfed all over his dad’s car (which he borrowed without permission).

When I decided to go to UP and he went to Ateneo, we celebrated by partying. When I lost my mom in a car accident, he took care of everything. When my dad followed my mom less than a year later after a heart attack, he was there again. By this time he was an appendage of my life. He used to check out the guys I came to know. Nobody dared to get serious with me–not when Oliver had a black belt. I didn’t know how to define our relationship.

I didn’t know what we were. We definitely were more than friends, better even than best friends. It was like we were a couple, but formally not one.

We did all the things that couple did like hang out and neck but always stopped when things got too hot. Since we never defined what we meant to each other we never said ”I love you” or whatever serious couple told each other.

As a result, I remained a chaste princess while my prince caroused and sowed wild oats, but still had the energy to monitor my movements. I didn’t mind. After all, I was so sure we’d end up together. I always thought that in the end, it would be us. I loved him. I managed to convince myself that he loved me (what else could it be?). Little did I know that love doesn’t conquer all, it only conquers the weak.

I didn’t think he’d be so stupid as to get a girl pregnant on the same night they met at a party. I didn’t think he’d be so stupid as to forget to use some form of contraception. After all, he had given me a lecture on safe sex. And I didn’t think he’d be so stupid as to marry the girl. But maybe I forgot that after all he was a man, and men have been known to be stupid about these things. Their brain is located in a region other than between the ears.

What could I do? Kicking him in the groin and punching him in the eye seemed like a good idea then. Don’t blame me; he was the one who enrolled me in a self-defense course. But I did not feel better. Seeing him bent over in pain only made me angrier. I wasted my life for this lousy excuse of a man? I could not believe it! I wanted nothing more than to run to him and beg him to wake me up from the stupid dream. I wanted him to take me some place where we didn’t know anybody.

No pain, no memory, no humiliation. I wanted to just forget it ever happened but since I flunked in the School for Martyrs, I couldn’t, for the life of me pretend, it didn’t happen. I couldn’t pretend he didn’t hurt me.

I couldn’t pretend everything was fine and dandy and exactly the way it was before. We didn’t talk for a month. For both of us who were practically inseparable, that was like an eternity. I ducked into corners whenever I would see him. I wouldn’t take his calls. I wouldn’t see him. And for some time hate was my reason for getting up in the morning, for breathing, for living.

Hate and I became good friends.

“God brings men into deep waters, not to drown them but to cleanse them,” somebody once wrote. I didn’t want to be cleansed. I just wanted to drown in pain and misery and utter desolation. I wanted to wallow in the dark and deep pit of despair. I know a thousand and one clichés that say this can be a blessing and that I should be thankful. But thankful is the last thing I’m feeling right now. I’ve always thought that there are three kinds of women: those who break, those who mend and those who are broken themselves.

Before this hit me, I assumed that I belonged to the first or second category. Now I know I’m in the third–so hurt and broken up inside. My grandmother used to say that there is nothing you can do about pain when it gives you a silly grin except grin right back. All I could manage was a wry smile, a killer headache and the worst hangover the day before his wedding.

Evidence of that is the disgusting sight of mashed potatoes and barbecue, thrown up not three meters away from where I was lying prostrate on the floor and the awful stench of cigarette on my hair. Frankly I don’t want to go. I want to wallow in misery in my messy room, crying, retching and stinking, surrounded with Michael Learns to Rock (whose songs are dedicated to the broken-hearted) CDs. But I have to go and attend the wedding. I have to bathe and prepare and put on that atrocious peach (it’s not even my color!) gown.

I’m not doing it for the groom, my one true friend and love, Oliver. Neither am I doing it for the bride, my younger sister, Sandra who needs me. I’m doing it for my unborn niece who has the great fortune of having me as her aunt. Call me stupid, but I’ve always known my place. If it isn’t beside the man I was destined to marry, if it isn’t behind my sister, who will take his name, wear his ring and bear him a child, then it must be with my niece, cradled close to my heart so that she will know both of our love.

He’s Getting Married is a Youngblood article published in Philippine Daily Inquirer. Forgive me but I can’t remember the exact year when this article was published. It’s been a while since this article was published and I’m still moved every time I get to read it. This may be old but I’m still posting it here because it’s one of the articles that I like most among all the Youngblood entries I’ve read. Youngblood is a section of Philippine Daily Inquirer that publishes true-to-life story or experiences that the sender would like to impart to readers.

image from bridaldetective

gone too soon: Kenjie Zabala

A minute of silence and prayers for Mossimo darling, Mr Kenjie Zaballa. Still don't have the exact details. May he rest in peace.

Photo of the Day: Halloween Candles

moment of silence....

Two Years Old

636 Post , around 500 hotties, 400 songs,
thanks everyone, I feel so much better knowing you guys still read my nonsensical posts :)

this blog has always been my stress  reliever, my favorite hiding place. HAPPY 2nd BIRTHDAY

THIS YEAR.... here are my birthday wishlist....
onti lang naman :D

Gay Baby Sitter Prank

I just can't stop LMFAO...

Must read: Minsan, May Isang Puta

(reposted from Mike Cortez)

Tingin ng mga bobong kapitbahay ko, puta daw ako. Nagpapagamit, binabayaran. Sabi nila, ako daw ang pinakamaganda at pinakasikat sa aming lugar noon. Di ko nga alam kung sumpa ito, dahil dito naletse ang kinabukasan ko.

Tara, makinig ka muna sa kwento ko, yosi muna tayo.
Alam mo, maraming lumapit sa akin. Nagkagusto at naakit. Ang hirap pag lahat sa iyo, virgin eh. Tinanggap ko naman silang tao, bakit kaya nila ako ginago? Hindi ko maintindihan ang mga nangyari sa akin. Bukas palad ko naman silang pinakitunguhan, ni hindi ko nga itinuring na iba. Iniisip ko na nga lang na kasi di sila taga rito kaya siguro talagang ganoon.
Tatlong malilibog na foreigners ang nagpyesta sa katawan ko. Sabi nila na-rape daw ako.
Sa tatlong beses akong nagahasa, ang pinakahuli ang di ko makakalimutan.
Parang maski di ko ginusto ang mga nangyari, hinahanap-hanap ko siya. Kasi, ibang-iba ang hagod niya. Umiikot ang mundo ko sa tuwing ginagamit niya ako. May mga pagkakaton na nasusuka na ko sa mga nangyayari sa aming dalawa. Parang ‘pag humahalinghing siya, nararamdaman ko na nalalason ako.. Gusto ko mang umayaw, hindi ko makuhang humindi. Hindi ko din alam kung bakit. Ibang klase din kasi siya mag-sorry eh, lalo pa at inalagaan niya ako at ang mga naging anak ko.
Alam mo, parating ang dami naming regalo – may chocolates, yosi at ano ka! May datung pa! Nakakabaliw siya! Alam kong ginagamit niya lang ako pero pagamit naman ako nang pagamit. Sa kanya namin natutunan mag-inggles, di lang magsulat ha! Magbasa pa!
Nung kinasama ko siya, guminhawa buhay namin. Sosyal na sosyal kami! Ewan ko nga ba, akala ko napapamahal na ako sa kanya. Akala ko tuloy-tuloy na kaligayahan namin, yun pala unti-unti niya akong pinapatay.
Punyetang buhay! Sa dami ng lason na sinaksak niya sa katawan ko, muntik na akong malaspag. Ang daming nagsabi na ang tanga tanga ko. Palayasin ko na daw. Taon ang binilang bago ako natauhang makining sa payo. Iniisip ko kasi na parang di ko kakayanin na mawala siya sa akin… Sa amin! .
Sa tulong ng ilan sa mga anak ko, napalayas ko ang demonyo pero ang hirap magsimula. Hindi nga ako sigurado kung nabunutan ako ng tinik o nadagdagan pa. Masyado na kasi kaming nasanay sa sarap ng buhay na naranasan namin sa kanya, kaya eto nabaon kami sa utang. Lubog na lubog kami sa pagkakautang, kulang yata pati kaluluwa namin para ibayad sa mga inutang namin.
Nakakahiya man aminin pero hanggang ngayon, sa tuwing mabigat ang problema ko, siya ang tinatakbuhan ko. ‘Yun nga lang, kapit sa patalim sabi nga nila. Para akong isang aso na nangagat ng amo, na bumabahag ang buntot at umaamo kapag nangangailangan.
Usap-usapan ako ng mga kapitbahay ko. May nanghihinayang, namumuhi at naaawa. Puta na kasi ang isang magandang katulad ko. Ang dating hinahangaan at humahalina ay nabibili sa murang halaga. Alam mo maski ganun ang mga nangyari sa akin, nilakasan ko pa rin ang loob ko. Kailangan makita ng mga anak ko, na masasandalan nila ako maski ano pang mangyari.
Maski ano pa ang sabihin ng iba, sinisikap namin na maging maganda ang buhay namin. Nag-aambisyon kami at nangangarap. Ayun, may mga anak ako na nasa Japan, Hong Kong, Saudi. Yung iba nag-US, Canada, Europe. ‘Yung iba ayaw umalis sa akin. Halos lahat, wala naman silbi. Masaya daw sa piling ko, maski amoy pusali ako.
Sa dami ng mga anak ko na nagsisikap na tulungan ang kalagayan namin, siya din ang dami ng mga anak ko na nanamantala sa kabuhayan at kayaman na itinatabi ko para sa punyetang kinabukasan naming lahat. Eto na nga ang panahon na halos di na kami makaahon sa hirap ng buhay. Napakahirap dahil nasanay na kami sa ginhawa at sarap.
Alam mo, gusto ko na sanang tumigil sa pagpuputa kaso ang laki talaga ng letseng utang ko eh. Palaki pa ng palaki! Paano na lang ang mga anak kong naiwan sa aking puder? At paano na lang ang mga anak kong nasa abroad? Baka di na nila ako balikan o bisitahin man lang? Hindi na importante kung laspagin man ang ganda ko, madama lang ng mga anak ko ang pagmamahal ko. Malaman nila na ibibigay ko ang lahat para sa kanila.
Sa tuwing titingin ako sa salamin, alam ko maganda pa rin ako. Meron pa din ang bilib sa akin. Napapag-usapan pa din. Sa tuwing nakikita ko ang mukha ko sa salamin, nakikita ko ang mga anak ko. Tutulo na lang ang mga luha ko ng di ko namamalayan. Ang gagaling nga ng mga anak ko eh, namamayagpag kahit saan sila pumunta. Mahusay sa kahit anong gawain. Tama man o mali.
Sa dami ng mga anak ko, iilan lang ang may malasakit sa akin. May malasakit man, nahihilaw pa.
Mabigat dalahin para sa akin, ang katotohanan na ni minsan ay di kami naging isang pamilya. Halos lahat ng mga anak ko, galit sa isa’t isa. IIlan ang gusto magtulungan, naghihilahan pa. Madalas kong itinatanong sa sarili ko kung naging masama ba akong nanay para magturingan ng ganito ang mga anak ko?
Kanino bang similya ng demonyo nanggaling ang mga anak kong maituturing mong may mga pinag-aralan pero nakakadama ng saya at sarap sa paghihirap ng kapatid nila? Di ko lubos maisip kung saan impiyerno nanggaling ang kasikiman ng ilan sa mga anak kong ito. Sila pa naman ang inaasahan kong magbabangon sa amin. Nakakabaliw isipin na natitiis nila ang kalagayan ng kanilang mga kapatid na halos mamatay sa hirap ng buhay. Parang di sila magkakapatid sa tindi ng pagkaganid at walang pagmamalasakit.
Ang di ko akalain ay mismong mga anak ko, ang tuluyang sisira sa akin. Kinapital ang laspag na ganda ko. Masaya sila sa mga nabibili nila mula sa pinagputahan ko. Buong angas nilang pinagyayabang ang mga pansamantalang yaman at ang kanilang hilaw na pagkatao sa mga makakakita at makikinig. Talaga bang nakakalula ang materyal na kayamanan at mga titulong ikinakabit sa pangalan? Hindi ko maintindihan.
Minsan sa pagtingin ko sa salamin, ni hindi ko na nga kilala sarili ko.
Dadating na naman ang pasko, sana maalala naman ako ng mga anak ko. Ilang linggo pa, magbabagong taon na. Natatakot ako sa taong darating. Ngayon pa lang usap-usapan na ang susunod na pangbubugaw sa akin. Gagamitin pa nila ang kahinaan ng mga kapatid nilang alipin sa kalam ng tiyan. Sa tagal ng panahong ganito ang sitwasyon namin parang eto lang ang sulok na gagalawan ko. Sana may magtanggol naman sa akin. Ipaglaban naman nila ako. Gusto kong isigaw: “Ina ninyo ako! Pagmamahal nyo lang ang kailangan ko!”
Sensya na, ang haba na ng drama ko. Masisira na ang make up ko nito eh. Salamat ha, pinakinggan mo ako. Malaking bagay sa akin na nakausap kita. Ang tagal nating nag-usap, di man lang ako nagpapakilala.
Ay sorry, di ko nasabi pangalan ko.
Pilipinas nga pala.
_____________________
http://www.facebook.com/minsan.may.isang.puta

Photo: From the movie “Ganap na Babae” 

Photo of the Day: Banana

Boys and Girls, here's the best way to eat a Banana. ♥

i hope you learned something today :)

Lady Gaga Live in Manila May 2012

Born This Way Ball Tour: Lady Gaga live in Manila on May 21 2012 at the SM MOA Arena
-fashion pulis


Now here's a compilation of Lady Gaga quotes.
More reason  why fantards go gaga :)

Coming Out Live

I had watched a hundred coming out videos but mallow610 is the cutest... he just seemed figity since he's coming out with his mom.
I love how Mom is ok with it. But she is such a typical talker mother and goes on and on and talks, dragging it out and talks all high pitched and mother like. Love her! ♥♥♥

Photo of the Day: Gay Life

credits to one of my favorite bloggers Miong21,

http://miong21.blogspot.com/

Photo of the Day: Heavyweight Beauties

beefy,big, brawny, bulging, bulky, bull,chunky, heavy, jelly-belly,large, meaty, obese, oversize, overweight, plump,  potbellied,  weighty,
♥
♥
♥
♥
BEAUTIFUL!!!

full body project..

Stephanie Seymour, Cindy Crawford, Christy Turlington, Tatjana Patitz and Naomi Campbell

Season's Greetings

i wouldn't mind being naughty and i still believe in Santa Claus...

cheers!