Six Thousand Pesos Boobs
Last night, Nicole and I shared a cab.
As we slowly coursed Quezon Avenue, Nicole told me how her boyfriend kept on complaining about her small hormone-pill-filled breast.
She said, “Every time we have sex, John Rey squeezes my breast real hard, his huge hands covering my humble breast.”

The cab driver glanced at the rear view mirror as Nicole continued, “I feel a bit disappointed, and I know John Rey also feels a bit disappointed. I want to fully satisfy him in bed and I think having a big breast, not a hormone-pill breast, but a collagen breast will give him the “real” satisfaction he’s looking for. Besides, it’s only six thousand pesos.”
I can’t help but think, is it right to change your physical self just to satisfy someone?
When we reached España, I asked her if she’s aware of the news about a starlet in the Philippine showbiz industry experienced with collagen implants. She said that she’s completely aware of it.
“I know that after 10 or 11 years the collagen implants will rot and pus will start to come out of my skin. I don’t care. As long as I will have a bigger breast that my boyfriend can enjoy, I don’t care”, Nicole explained.
I jokingly asked her, “What if one time, John Rey squeezes your breast, lick it and pus will ooze out, what will you do?” She didn’t answer my question. And we laughed hysterically.
As I slowly walked towards the front of my house, I wondered, is it politically right to not consider your own needs first, especially if its something you can live without, just to please someone?
The Murder of Winton Lou
He was 28 years old. He was a Palanca-winning writer. He was a professor in Dela Salle University. And a proud gay.
His name was Winton Lou Ynion, and he was murdered. His hands and feet were tied with a nylon cord and his body was covered with stab wounds.

***
A professor e-mailed blast last week; “It all happened one night, when Winton took home a guy (or two guys) for a fun night, but the supposed fun night ended in a bloody frenzy.
Winton’s friend Jojo Flores went to his condominium unit in Katipunan, Quezon City after several unanswered calls. He knocked repeatedly on the door, but there was no answer. He went to the building administrator and asked for help.
When they got inside the unit, the strong stench of the body welcomed them. They found Winton’s body lying in the toilet floor drenched in his own blood.
The QCPD (Quezon City Police District) said, “We have yet to determine what the victim does for a living and the motive for his killing, although our initial theory was robbery.” The police also said that based from the condition of the body, Winton could have been dead for hours or even days before he was discovered.
***
Winton was an innocent gay man; he’s like any of us who lives everyday for his dreams and for his family. He never deserved to die the way he did.
It’s been ten days since Winton was murdered. Neither TV news report nor radio report about the murder aired. There were only two small columns, and personal blogs that tried their best to tell the story of Winton.
This makes me think; is a murder story unimportant to news and to us to the point that we are more interested to watch and listen to news that discusses the President’s abundant dinners?
Maybe if the one murdered is a big personality, or someone connected to a personality, its story will shed its light on TV or in the radio, but what about the regular people? What about Winton’s story?
He might be our Facebook friend, our professor, our classmate, our friend, or our brother – doesn’t he deserve to be in the news so that people will hear his story?
***
I remember Ivan. He was also murdered. He was also found in his room with nylon cords tied around his hands, his body bore stab wounds. The last information his friends knew was, he brought home a guy and then the next time they heard of him, he was dead. The way he was murdered matched Winton’s.
Is this an on going serial-killing? Is this another hate crime? Are the police and the government doing something to thoroughly investigate these kind of crimes and prevent it?
References: inquirer.net, Ang Ladlad
The Beautiful One
Her name is Nicole. She is 24 years old. She’s an Executive Assistant of one the country’s most awarded writer and executive producer. She’s a transvestite.
Nicole along with Me, Anton, Jeff, Bernard and Brent go out on an every night basis; go to different bars and party until the break of dawn, meet different people from different places, and a lot more different stuff…
But now, she’s in a relationship for three and a half months now, our usual routine became our past time. Even if we, her friends, don’t approve the guy she’s in a relationship with, she doesn’t care what we think of his boyfriend nor listen to our advice. What matters to her is how she feels for the guy.
She can be hardheaded especially when she truly believes on the thing she’s fighting for, like her boyfriend. Despite of the obvious reasons why she should break up with the guy; the seldom communication with each other, going out with girls on a regular basis without informing Nicole, and the not so often borrowing of money – only shows that this guy is not serious in the relationship, but Nicole chooses to be blind, because she believes and hopes that this person might be “the one”.
Nicole is the sweetest and the most caring among us. She’ll even ditch her family or her boyfriend just to be with her friends in times of painful heartaches and lonely nights.
But behind the beautiful face, the sweet smile, there’s only one thing Nicole is looking for: true love.
Love that has no monetary value. Love that respects monogamy. Love that sees no gender.
To Realize
Four straight months and counting.
Malate clubbing doesn’t look like as it used to. The once-in-a-while trip to bathhouses was removed from the weekly activities. The late night conversations with friends are lessened to at least twice a week. Heavy smoking is now known as social smoking.
When does one become futile to a point where he will shelf himself away from his usual activities?
After spending more time with Erick than with my friends, it’s like seeing things in a different way, in a more meaningful way. It’s like; there is a deeper reason why you can’t go out every night, why you have to cut back with your vices, thinking twice of your actions to not create an unnecessary hype when you’re in a party.
Two weeks ago, in the middle of our weeknight clubbing in Malate, Bernard whispered to me that I am changing, that I’m not like the Patrick he’s out with five months ago. I still party like before, I still stay up late and drink too much, I still dance to tunes I enjoy. I couldn’t get him at first, but after a long think, I realized that it’s all because I’m in a relationship.
How many priority changes I need to make because I’m already in a relationship? And how many unconscious changes am I making everyday?
Last Friday, I was out with Erick and Nicole. After hours of dancing in drinking, I asked Nicole if she still wants to buy another round of drinks, Erick leaned closer to me and said, “One more bottle, and we’ll go home, you’ve had too much”, and he smiled.
I finished my last bottle of San Mig Light while I danced with Erick and Nicole. I placed the empty bottle on the side bar and took Erick’s hand and walked towards the exit.
As we slowly made our way between the tight crowd of the bar, my late-night parties before flashed in my head and I smiled and said to myself, “The “party girl” is indeed, in a relationship.”
Just Say “Yes”
Five more days and I will be celebrating my third month with Erick. My relationship with Erick has been mostly “ups” and very, very few “downs”.
I was surprised to experience a straight up relationship with Erick, unlike in my past relationships, there were several emotional and intellectual challenges and obstacles I have to overcome before I can freely feel that I am happy and satisfied with the relationship.
More than three years of being single, more than three years of going through life and experiencing every joy, pain and agony of reality, it created a mindset I unconsciously use each and every time I meet a new guy; that there are only three things every guy want and experience when they go out on a date; a good fuck, an endless screening to add their long list of friends, or a hit and run accident and finally date “the one” (of course, at the end of the day, you only have 5% chance to hit a perfect score when you’re in a date with the guy you consider as “the one”, and end up – you going in bed alone hoping and for a message from him the whole night until the next day, you’ll be probably get a forwarded message if you’re lucky, but most of the time, none.)
For almost three months, I have experienced happiness and if I can freely use the word “contentment”, I am, with Erick.
I can’t really understand what I’m going through, after overcoming all the obstacles and challenges I have to go through, not while in the relationship, but on my way before I finally got in the relationship; I still can’t fully admit to him that we are already committed, that we are in a monogamous relationship, or in simpler terms; I can’t say “yes” in front of his face, even if, I think, there’s nothing stopping me.
Last June 27, when I attended the White Party in Malate with my friends and Erick, I unconsciously blurted in front of Erick that I love him. I felt like everything suddenly stopped, I didn’t know what I heard or what entered my mind that time and I said that to him.
It’s not that I don’t love him, I felt like it’s not the right time and place to say such thing, I could have said it to him on many different occasions, but I unconsciously chose that night and said it. But is the saying true, “When you truly love someone, you will not choose a moment or place to let that person know and feel how much you love him?” I guess it is.
Don’t get things wrong, I like Erick, and I must admit, I’m starting to fall in-love with him, but every time our conversations lean towards the end of courting and the start of the actual relationship, I can’t simply say “yes”, even if I want to.
In matters of relationships, have the rules and the steps in entering and keeping a relationship changed as time goes by? Is it a must to say to the person you are sharing your life with that you want to go steady with him, that you love him, or your actions will speak louder than those words and it will do more than enough for the two of you? Why can’t we just say “yes” if we really want something?
Hayden-Cam
Hayden Kho’s collection of sex scandals was not the first to hit the Philippine public, after being overly sensationalized by the media, senate and by everyone who have mobile phones with video playback capability, let’s look back to the first episode of private videos being made public. The best way to start every list is with a very disturbing sound, an audio tape sex scandal. The long list of sex scandals began with President Ferdinand Marcos’.
1970’s in the heat of the First Quarter Storm, the Philippines was scandalized when a tape was played in the university station of UP Diliman.
It was President Marcos. He was singing an Ilocano love song to American actress Dovie Beams while they were making love. Beams hid a tape recorder under a bed while making love to the President and later revealed the recording to the public as a “protection” since there were many threats to her life.
Writer Sterling Seagrave on the broadcasting of tapes said, “Student protesters at the University of the Philippines commandeered the campus radio station and broadcast a looped tape; soon the entire nation was listening in astonishment to President Marcos begging Dovie Beams to perform oral sex. For over a week the President’s hoarse injunctions boomed out over university loudspeakers.”
1980’s had its own share of scandals when a Betamax tape made public and have been reproduced. It was a recording of sexy actress Vivian Velez and a well-known politician in the North, Fariñas’ sexual act. But the video did not spread as there were lack of proper medium to carry it, like the internet or the cheap vcd’s and dvd’s.
In 2001, in an interview with Velez, she said that she has move on with the issue already, “I just put my chin up and say it can happen to a lot of people.”
1990’s, the whole Philippines was scandalized when a series of videos of talent manager Jojo Veloso made public. He was fondling and playing with the private parts of his talents. One very well-known talent of Veloso that was victimized by the scandal was Hans Montenegro.
There been senate hearings about the scandal. And it was entertainment journalist Joubert Sucaldito who exposed the whole hanky-panky of Veloso.
Like the 1980’s there still weren’t enough technology to pass, recopy and send files, and so Velos’s video remined in the vaults of authorities.
Come year 2000, file sharing have improved, the internet have been very accessible to everyone and the birth of mobile phones with video playback capabilities gave a whole new meaning to sex scandals.
There have been tens and tens of sex scandals that made public; one of it was from a popular sexy actress Criselda Volks. The video were showing Volks having sex with an older man. It made a whole new different noise as everyone can check out the video and use it as an entertainment between their friends.
Volks later admitted the she was in the verge of committing suicide after the video made public. It was like an outbreak, everyone had a copy of her video, whether in their mobile phones; download it somewhere in the internet or in a USB drive.
Hayden Kho’s sex scandals quickly emerged to everyone’s hands as the improvement of technology; the videos were quickly shared, through Bluetooth and USB drive.

Like any other sex scandals that surfaced before, Kho’s numerous sex scandals with different popular women will be soon forgotten. It maybe the headline of the week, the story of the month but it will soon die, when different news emerged in the media. The story of sex scandals will again come if there will be an outbreak of series of sex scandals by another prominent personality.
Photos courtesy: TV Patrol World, ABS-CBN
Euphoria
“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5…” The Curator counted back as I slowly walked around his living room trying to catch my breath after rushing to Makati from work. “4, 3…” I walked towards him, now standing very close to him. “…2, 1” We’re both standing in front of each other, face to face, butterflies running wild in my stomach, he smiled, “I’m going to kiss you now Patrick.”
**********
It was around ten in the evening, when I arrived at the Curator’s apartment. I was a bit exhausted, after spending minutes and minutes trying to find his place.
I spotted the Curator waiting at the corner of his street, wearing an Abercrombie-style short, a polo shirt and a baseball cap. As memory serves me, it was the first time I saw him wearing something so casual and yet he looks so cute, I just want to grab him and squeeze him.
**********
When you want something so bad and do everything so hard just to get it and you finally did, what will you do next?
**********
“Patrick, Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.” He repeated my name over and over while holding me. “The whole day, your name keeps flashing in my head…, was thinking of you.”
He was lying on one of the two sofas in his apartment, the one sitting next to the window, the whole place were humbly lit coming from the half-open door of his room. Everything is so quiet, puffing and blowing of our cigarettes ruled the atmosphere.
I sat beside him on the sofa and placed my arms on his chest. I looked at him; he smiled while playing with my arms. It’s that smile of his I couldn’t get out of my head. A naughty and yet sweet, like a child trapped in a 34-year old body.
We talked and we talked, and we kissed and we kissed. There was nothing sexual about the whole conversation and the kissing, it was all good actually.
“We don’t really need to have sex or feel obligated to perform just to please each other. Intimacy. Intimacy, Patrick, that’s what we’re here for.” He pulled me closer to him and hugged and kissed me.
I must admit, I was drowning in euphoria that night, most of the things that have had happened were still floating up until now. The way I held his hand, the way he guided mo to sit on top of me, the way we kissed; so gentle, so soft, so wanting and yet not sexually, but intimate.
Hours passed. We transferred to his room.
**********
How will you know if the person lying next to you or the person you are kissing at the moment, the person you really like is “the one”? There’s not one single reference materials you can borrow in the library and verify your answer just like what we used to do back in college to answer the question, “Is he the one?”, just our heart.
**********
I didn’t get to sleep that night; I was half awake the whole time. And just before the sun, just before the alarm in his phone beep, he slowly pulled me closer to him, placed his right arm around my neck, while his left arm around me, and laid his head on my shoulder.
We cuddled, and cuddled.
**********
“Intimacy is (always) better than anything (and everything).”
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