Vanity, Vanity.

You're so gay.


May pang-umaga, pang-tanghali, hapon, pang-gym, panggabi, midnight, at may asukal pa (para tumamis). LOL.

Comments

  1. ChipJuly 4, 2010 at 9:35 AM

    Hahaha!!! Nice!!! Magkakasundo tayo!!! Although medyo magkaiba--yung sayo, mga lotion at mga gentle stuff. Sakin naman, puro mga asido at matatapang na chemicals at mga orals meds. Hahaha!!!

    Pagbalik mo dito, ang beauty beauty mo na. Hahaha!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. The Cake DoctorJuly 5, 2010 at 11:16 PM

    Malandi ka rin gaya ni Carabrant! lol

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Closeted

Image
We die everyday. The moment we step out of our houses, we become sensitive to how the world will see us. We mute our colors and hide the mannerisms that could betray us. We try as hard as possible to be inconspicuous in our words and actions. We look for nuances of what makes a man straight and so we stifle our tendencies and inclinations in order to be like them. We call the men bro or dude  or whatever sounds manly in the offices that we work in.
Read more

The Gym Chronicles I

I keep forgetting that this is the country of miles and feet, not of kilometers and meters; of kilograms and fahrenheit, not of pounds and celsius. I stepped into the treadmill, pressed quick start, and after a few seconds accelerated the machine until it read 15.  Whoa, was it fast!  Out of breath and almost falling down, I realized that 15mph translates to about 24kph.  Hey, if there's any consolation, I can still compute even in the midst of impending embarrassment. After a solid 20 minutes of running stationary, I went down and started acquainting myself with the place.  It was very similar to the gym I used to go to in the Philippines, although it's about twice the size of the gym in Eastwood and there was still the whole expanse of the 2nd floor.  There were four rooms for racquetball, one basketball court, one swimming pool, two rooms for group exercises, and a cycling studio.  There were a lot more machines though and the increments were not by ...
Read more

Not my type

It's not false modesty when I diffuse people's compliments on how I look.  In the gym, it has ranged from "nice lookin' man" to "hot Asian" or "mighty cute" to "the nicest smile this state has ever seen."  Sometimes I'd fake a smile, say thanks, or look at them quizzically.  Because I don't get it. I remember what my friend used to say: kung mabenta ka sa ibang bansa, ibig sabihin pangit ka sa Pinas kasi gusto ng foreigners exotic. I can live better with that rather than a string of compliments that I don't consider real.  I've known myself consciously for a million years, stared reluctantly and begrudgingly at the mirror every waking moment, and I never saw what others did.  I never liked what I saw and I've simplified a lot of things, like shaving my hair regularly, so that I won't have to spend half my life staring at a mirror. I'm comfortable with my skin, but I'm just not my type.  If I were to...
Read more