Monday, 25 August 2008

In the words of Chaka Khan: Through the Fire!

Well, folks, I may have walked out on Oli but believe it or not, back together again kami.

See, the thing is: I know I am not perfect. Hello! Super dami kong flaws, noh?! So when Oli made sayad (or whatever the term is), ako naman, sige. Cool. Calm. Collected. I walked out so that he can calm down and I can compose myself. Siyempre, you know me, ever Ruffa (read: walang kupas na pokpok).

ANYway, I sent an SMS saying that I was going to church (which was true, ha!) pero I stopped off at a local toi-lay. At first, I wasn't too sure I was in the mood, but what the banana, divah? What do I have to lose? I already felt like zigzag, adidas and betamax (referring to the chicken bbq entrails) in an Ayala Alabang Christmas Bazaar (I have no idea what I am talking about here, so whatever you are thinking of, you are probably right).

So I went into a cubbie and there were two others looking underneath their cubicle doors. One was young, pandakis and not so well hung, but very cute. The other... I don't know. Kasi naman he didn't show his face, his body or his patutie. So ako naman, whatever, drama, chuvah. I care not. My motto is play and display at kung may kumagat, ghame!

After a while, the short guy stood up, buttoned up his pants, and flushed the toilet. One of two things can happen next: it's either he wants to go now without getting off, or he is game for a live show.

Now, a live show is when you open your cubicle door and pretend to pee, while actually jacking off. If others are game for a live show and you are sure that no other civvies are there (bawal ang minor de edad! Remember!), they too will open their cubicle doors and the fun begins.

It just so happened that I was more than ready for the fun to begin. By the time shorty had opened his door, my door was already wide open and my back was to him. Given my arm movements, I am sure he knew what I was up to. By the time I tilted my head to the side to see what he was doing, there was no mistaking what was on his mind - his cock was out and about and ready to meet the world.

Taking on his bravado, I turned around to show my stiff cock. He stepped out into the corridor and so did I. Of course, at this point, we were confident that there were only four people in the room, and the other two were peering underneath the cubbie doors to see what was happening. What I found strange was the person who was occupying the cubbie door directly in front of mine. He barely showed his cock while I was looking underneath the cubicles and now that two of us were jacking off in the corridors, he was just peering through the crack on the wall where he had also lined with toilet paper. As in, he took a *lot* of effort to make sure he wasn't seen by people.

Ako naman, shirley. Vahala ka sa vuhae moh. I am here to cum - care ko kung gaym siya or not. So may I laro kami ni shorty. He as definitely smaller and slimmer than I was, but he really didn't want me to touch or suck him. Ako naman, ok lang. I know that some people are just into the whole voyeurism thing and I can respect that. So there we were, jacking off in front of the other two cubicles whose occupants were still trying to get a good view of us.

After a while, I think Mr. Shy (the one with the toilet-paper-covered cubicle) decided to out himself.

And I was in shock.

Well, he was old. As in around 60 years old. Minimum. Kita mo naman sa feiz, eh. PERO, my ghad! Ang katawan!!! As in, muscles galore and more to spare. He was built like a tank and when he finally showed his penis. LOKISH! It was around 7 inches long but with an immense head. As in, super big head with a super thick foreskin.


Before shorty got it, I grabbed it and jacked it off. After I realised how big it was, I decided to suck it and in the exact same time, I came all over the floor.

That was when someone came in. We all shuffled to our respective cubicles and fixed myself. When I knew that everything was clear, I came out with a wad of tissues to clean up my residue (siyempre naman I look after the place, noh!) and left.

When I came back home, Oli and I had a talk and he apologised for shouting at me. Ako naman, ok lang. I love Oli, (trust me - I do) but if he treats me like shit, I can always go somewhere where I can get my rocks off.

No one cares for me like I can, so if he's not willing to treat me well, it's no skin off my nose. I can take care of myself.


1. Quentin: The resignation letter was long pending. Separate incident, honest. :-)

2. JM: MWAH! Yun lang. :-)

3. rik: Well, I hope to bump into you once you come over. Pero naman wag sa toilet! CHOZ! :-D

Saturday, 23 August 2008

Dramas Before the Violet Post

After the beautimous harrassment suit that went quickly down the drain, I have a new drama in my life. I guess the fates decided that a few torturous weeks weren't enough.

Nagaway kami ni Oli kaninang umaga. For some strange reason, we were talking about the walang kamatayang bading na diver na nanalo ng gold. Ewan ko ba kung bakit, pero bigla ba namang nagalit ang lokah sa akin with matching sigaw.

Well, ako for one, hindi ako pinalaki ng nanay ko para maging punching bag o door mat ni no man (or is it "nino man"? Ewan ko ba vah). So, I did what any Ms. Universe finalist would do.

Smile. One step back. Walk out.

As in, I gracefully got my gym bag and went to the gym. Had lunch. Went to the office (on a Sunday!). Printed my resignation letter. Slipped it under my manager's door. And here I am now.

Now what will I do now? I don't know for sure. I definitely don't want to see Oli until tonight. I'm pretty sure I will go to church later (good girl ako, a! Every Sunday... well, second Sunday...) and then... I don't know. Maybe I will hada - because I can.

See, the scary thing about me is once you cross me, there is little chance of going back. As in, sa tingin mo crayola akish if I walk out on Oli. Hindeh, no! Maraming distractions sa mundo, and I *refuse* to cry over a man. Once was enough, chenkyu.

ANYway, as usual...

1. kurisu: Sinabi mo, sister! Feeling ko talaga may bagong title ako: Reyna Facade!

2. quentin: To be honest, ghurl, I don't know. Feeling ko may sayad siya - honest. My manager actually told me before about her, but I didn't know she was one bottle cap short of Kikkoman (read: may toyo).

3. gibo: In fairness, di naman sya Chaka. In fact, may pagka-Beyonce sya... if Beyonce was dragged through the mud, plopped through a grater and whipped with an egg beater, as a child. Ay, ang sama ko. My solicitor will not be happy. So, I take it back.


4. joaqui: Nakuh, no thanks. She would have to invade a public men's toilet if she wants to see my goods! (GANON!)

On a serious note: I hope you're ok. Medyo feeling ko, rollercoaster time for you, so I hope you have your seatbelt fastened and you are holding on to the rails. This too will end soon.

5. ash: JHURL! Nice to know you are up and about. I felt talaga you had vacated my life (chicka!). I was about to write a comment on your little mermaid piece pero decided against it. I heard the most fantabulous gay version of that song. One of these days I will email you a copy (if I could find it, that is).

Monday, 18 August 2008


I hate the fact that I do not have time to update this blog. In my previous entry, I was about to end the rainbow series - in fact, this upcoming one is violet, about the waiter I had "sex" with during my first visit to a sauna here (back in the late 90's!).

But while planning for it, one of my psychoholic workmates filed a sexual harrassment against moi! Now this is a problem because (a) hindi ko type ang girl, and (b) I have only talked to her thrice in the time I have been here in Sydney, AND (c) she is reported things that could not possibly be true.

To elaborate point (c), she talked about (c1) my foreskin and how (c2) we talked about my foreskin and (c3) I showed it to her. Now, this is a problem because (d1) I don't have a foreskin, which means (c1) and (c3) could not be true. Also, the only extended discussion (more than 5 minutes) I've had psychoholic girl was when I explained the functions of the new office photocopying machine, and I guarantee you ladies and gentlemen that there was, is or will ever be anything sexual about a photocopying machine, unless I'm having sex on top of it in which case will never EVER be with psychoholic girl but with... let's say, Jean Franko or Daniel Marvin
or Pedro Andreas... OR all three of them!

Hindi naman ako garapal, noh???

So yun. The suit was convened and after my submission of documents and trial and chuvah, I was acquitted. The girl left the office, yelling and screaming for bloody vengence, to which
the office manager whispered "Good riddance."

To be honest, I never harrassed anyone... ok, at least to the point of showing my penis. Parang hellO! Hindi naman ako bobing, noh? Hayok? Yes. Malandi? Yes. Tanga? Straight? No - on both counts.

Yan ang mahirap kapag no one in the office knows about my sexuality - not that there is any reason for disclosure. Parang I could tell everyone about me, but I choose not to.

ANYway, liberated na ang bakla and now I can move on. I am planning on changing jobs, something that I thought about before this whole controversy came about. My manager knows naman and after this incident, she said she would give me glowing recommendations still.

My life goes on. The last of the rainbow will rise in the next week or so. Stay tuned...


Quentin: HELLOoooo! Sorry I was not able to meet you! I took down na my special spot in 357. Nice naman siya, noh? I had my first curry there! Yum! Galore! Oh the memories...

Gibo: Believe it or not, there is no part two. Super engot naman me during that time. I would not have known what to do about a penis dangling down my throat, honest!!!

RiK: Siyempre kunwari virginal, noh!? It's the Reyna Elena in me... and yes, Digo is VERY malinis! I googled his name and apparently, he's still playing random gigs now and such. Pero sadly, married. *sigh-yang* On a more serious note, I hope you are ok. You have to tell me what the hell happened to you??? Sister!!! You based here ba or in Manila?

Archie: Medyo. Honest, I really wish I had been more on the ball that night (pun intended)

Commuter: Oh, just for the record, from memory, it was a fat note. :-D

Turismo: Mismo, hija! Mismo!

Onai: I know, I know! Going down memory lane kasi eh! Promise the next few updates will make up for it!... Once I get the time to do it all, that is.

Joaqui: Don't hate me, but there is no part 2... :-( I hope the next few entries will make up for it.

Saturday, 2 August 2008


Pabati muna:

1. turismo: For me, it's balbon and utong. Utong story will cap the Rainbow (re)Collection.

2. archiemb: I know... How I wish I had more guts in my youth. So much wasted opportunity.

3. gibo & dabo: We all miss out, in one way or another, di ba? It's all a matter of catching up, I think! :-D

4. princhecha: naku, your highness. dapat gawan ng paraan! di va? *tili*

5. joaqui: Ah, yes. The memories of youthful masturbation.

6. commuter: we are all guilty of these tittilating adventures, aren't we? :-D


I have to confeyzun to make. This is actually one of the reasons why I wanted the Rainbow (re)Collection Stories. This is my story with Digo.

The year was 1993, and I took time off studies to focus on those two things I thought I could do for life – theatre and modeling. Let’s face it – the cameras, the pictures on magazines, the multitudes looking at you on stage… I was an attention whore (in a lot of ways, I still am) and I LOVED IT.

However, I never really felt I knew where to go and how to start. I signed up to an independent theatre/singing group to start with, and that was when I met Digo. He was heading the choral group at that time, and my God, he was gorgeous. He was short, but still very attractive - he had milky soft skin that was such a strong contrast to his wild, wavy hair. He had wide eyes that mirrored his enthusiastic way of doing things. It’s like he’s always on Red Bull – but he does so that you never think he’s putting on an act or anything. While signing up, he smiled at me, and I knew I was at home with him. Although I was there for the acting part, I signed up initially for the choral.

As musical director, he basically trains us with our vocal technique and whatnot – and he was amazing. We would always spend our weeknights practicing and such, and of course, because we lived relatively close, we would end up drinking after practice with other select guys in the group.

One night, our drinking spree ended with the two of us on a laughing trip fueled by nonsensical jokes and what felt like 14 gallons of beer each. I knew I was toasted and for the first time in years, I felt alive.

At the top of our voices, we started singing “Galileo” by the Indigo Girls, a duo whom Digo loved to bits. It was one of my favourite choral songs and when we sang it, we just clicked vocally. It felt like magic to my ears.

“Hoy! Tumigil nga kayo diyan!”

Again, to MY ears, it was magic. To our neighbours, it must have been a rude 2 am wake up siren.

As we kept on singing, Digo started jumping around near the song’s coda… and dramatically twisted his ankle somehow. He toppled and fell face first onto a pile of gravel. When I got to him, he was barely conscious, his breath reeking of alcohol. Because I didn’t want to bring him all the way to his house, which would have been another 20 minute walk, with me carrying most of his drunken weight, I decided to take him home with me.

When I got to the house, I realized that he had a small wound near his eye and a small stream of blood had started to trickle down. I am not one to panic (kasi feeling Florence Nightingale, di ba?!) so I got some gauze, cleaned and dressed his wound. All the while I was trying to calm Digo down, because he just kept on talking (thank God our house has thick walls!) and mumbling. I turned around to throw out all the used gauze and such, and when I turned to face Digo, he had somehow gotten the idea in his head that he was at his house. He took off his shirt and got trapped in it, so I helped him out of it.

That was when I saw how beautiful his body was. It was like looking into a pond of milk. His muscles were tight and lean in all the right places, and I couldn’t help but look at it without breathing.

My enchantment was broken when he suddenly decided to take off his pants. Because I was still virginal at the time, and yes there WAS a time I was virginal, I didn’t know what to do but I knew that this wasn’t an opportunity that would happen again.

I reached for his pants, my fingers trying desperately to unbutton his 501s. I had gotten to the last button when his eyes opened and he stared at me blankly. No anger, no happiness – in fact, no emotion whatsoever. I didn’t know what that stare meant but I knew very well the consequences of misreading it… so I did the only thing I knew I could do well: lie.

“Hinuhubad mo ang pantaloon mo. Tinutulungan lang kita. Ikukuha na kita ng pajama.”

I went to my drawer, got one of my old PJs and turned out to offer it to Digo, but he was again fast asleep, his pants rolled down to his thigh. I took off his pants for him, my eyes running back and forth his body but always alert of Digo regaining consciousness.

I put his pajamas on him and went to the other side of the bed to sleep. In the middle of the night, I woke to find him, clutching on to my arm with my hand decidedly in between his legs. I could feel part of his hard-on on my elbow.

I couldn’t breathe.


Lyrics from Ghost by the Indigo Girls.

unknowing captor

you'll never know how much you pierce my spirit

can you hear it

a cry to be free

or i'm forever under lock and key

as you pass through me