Thursday, June 29, 2006

How To Execute A Proper Breakup

I was talking to LB over lunch about typical relationship issues and we ended up laughing over the most idiotic breakup lines. Its the attack of those famed cheesy quips that only creative-less institutions like TCS is capable of.

edit: I changed the title.. this is more fitting.

1. Its not you, it's me...

Yes how we've heard this one over before. Some of us are even guilty of saying this. Hands up if you've said this before, cos if you haven't it's either you have breakup lines scripted by Shakespeare, or you've always been the one being ditched.

This is guilt diffusion in a nutshell. What you inevidently do is end all possible ensuing conversations of "but I will change". You take the blame because its the easy way out. If this does not work, and those idiots refuse to break up with you, these are some stuff you may want to consider.

- Punch them in the ears, HARD. They deserve it cos they obviously didn't hear you properly the first time. Then repeat yourself again.

You: "Its not you, its me.... "

Punch again if they don't get the idea the second time round. You may want to consider kicking for added effect.

- You may want to change your approach


If they don't get your point or bring up the "I will change" argument, you might want to stick to the punching technique.

2. I think its better we remain friends..

Oh, that's a product of too much TCS and too little brains. Everyone know that this is just an equivocation of saying, "We should be fuck buddies". Of cos, there's truth in this. Some couples are better of being friends, well it frees up 2 more for the remaining single's population. Some precautions you want to take when administering this B grade breakup line...

They: "What's the difference in us being friends and us being together?"

At this point, clasp your fingers and smack them real hard with a snapping palm. You might want to use your master hand for that added omph.

You: "At least I won't slap my friends."

You might have to repeatedly do this 3-5 times before you can get the message across. The best is to pre-empt this and slap them at mid-sentence, somewhere around, "What's the difference in...[slap]". Usually this adds a stunned effect. Remember, DO NOT let them talk back at you, that would warrant another good ass whooping.

The above will not work if you happen to date stupid people, who's reflex to this might be a smile, thinking this is an evolution of SM foreplay. When this happens,

Make a run for it. No amount of ass whooping will get the point across. NEVER date idiots.

3. I don't think we're suited for each other

Yes, 10 points for your obviously good foresight, and minus 10 for your myopic significant other. You'll obviously have to give concrete reasoning for saying this, so focus on really important matters like,

You: "You're missing my clit. I don't like it when you lick my asshole and your tongue is further from it than your nose is."


You: "You are ugly."

Usually with the above non-debatable arguments, you'll win, since these are cardinal sins. Do not however,

- Punch them in the eye, since they obviously lack vision to begin with.
- Spit at them. A bad aim and saliva in the eyes can be painful.

If they try to talk you out of it, you'll need to be resolute. Bring along brass knuckles. A good aim at their throat will be a good way to get yourself out of this predicament. I usually DO NOT condone the use of violence but some people need to be set straight. Hit them before they start to get violent. Repeatedly if you have to keep them down.

Remember, it's better them choking on blood than you.

4. It's just the wrong time, if only we met earlier.

Timing is always a factor. Bad timing is a disease, like premature ejaculation and suicide bombing. You need to let them know that you are not bullshiting about the timing shit. Raise your voice if they doubt you. Throw a sucker punch if you need to. We need to make them see our point. Laugh loudly when they are moaning in pain.

I believe timing is everything. Just like how you meet all the hot people simultaneously and you have no idea who to fuck. And when you are single and lonely, no one pops up, and you're left to decide between Jap or American porn to wank over or that pink dildo or silver vibrator. Life's greatest dilemma.

5. I don't love you anymore.

Things don't get any clearer than this. If they challenge this, they should expect the biggest ass whooping you can humanly dish out on them. Things to look out for..

They: "But I still love you..."

You need to administer the ear punching protocol. Becareful not to hit the head, you need them to be brain-damage free to understand that no one gives a shit what they feel. You are all that matters. Tell them in a foreign language, preferably one that they can't comprehend, just so that you can punch them again. Hey, they didn't understand it the first time round anyway.

They: "How can you suddenly not love me?"

For this, stay calm and bring up some pass events that highlight your displeasure and why its a catalyst in this episode of lost love. Things like how they changed your channel while you're on Oprah or how they cheered for the other team for the World Cup. Things like how they messed your hair can also be brought up, do not trivialize these.

If these don't work, start unfolding some chairs. They should get the idea after that. Love dies, face it.

6. I like someone else.

Duh, need you explain more? Bring along another person, make sure it's someone hotter. You don't want to risk your ex-partner laughing at you. Escort services come in real handy. Do not even think of being cheap here. Spend some money and get a real hot one. Nothing beats giving your ex a good self-esteem beating. You want them ABSOLUTELY destroyed. [You might want to add in an evil laugh, but practise on it first.]

Tell them you don't want to waste calories fucking them again. Then proceed to screw the HOT escort right before them. They'll run off crying so you might want to pre set booby traps on the ground so that they'll fall into one of them. Crying fucks up judgement and they won't anticipate danger. Serves them right for not having Spider senses.

7. My Parent's don't approve of us.

Hide the parents first, you don't want to risk your psycho ex hunting them down. Make sure you can inflict enough damage on your ex before they do any harm to your parents. Family comes first, ALWAYS.

Parent's should never be a deciding factor, but bring them in if that asshole continues to stick. Remember, you need to throw everything but the kitchen sink at them.

You might need to use a combo of reasons, but always remember the rule of the thumb. Action speaks louder than words. 4 words for you..


Monday, June 26, 2006

Butterfly and the Hole story

Everyone has a story to tell about how they messed up sex cos they cannot find the damn V hole. Me, your internet King of Sex Fuck Ups, is no different. Hey, if you've messed up before, I'd probably have done it before you even conceive it to be humanly possible. Don't you just love me?

Some people are gifted with natural talent like, playing soccer, kissing, un-hooking bras, suicide bombing, crashing planes.. etc. Others need alot more practise. I am bad with bras. VERY bad. I get piss off when I cannot find the hooks and realise that they are in front and think bra makers are deliberately trying to make me look bad. And you don't want me irritated with bras, I start pouting and from my first pout to my first grunt, you'll have about 1 min before I rip EVERYTHING apart by force.

Then there are some people who should never have sex. I've heard horror stories from my female friends about how guys can't tell assholes from vaginas. This is seriously disturbing.. I wonder how cunnilingus would be for them. Licking up the assholes and whatever shit nuggets you might have left over from that good afternoon bowel bombardment. YUMMY.

I'm no sex God but I've fucked enough women to know that every hole is different from the one before. There are those that can fit watermelons and you can never miss even if you were running into her backwards in the dark.

Then there are the ones with too much pubes it's like the Amazonian Rainforest down there. Those you might never want to lick, suck or put your face anywhere within 2 inches of it. You can probably find 5 different species of lice under them. Say.. EEEWWW.

Then there are the ones that you just CANNOT find, despite how much I pray about it.

To begin with, I usually do not have problems in this area, generally the girl slots me in. Its like a hands-free service that usually comes when the girl really wants to fuck me, or when they've had enough of my teasing. And all this pampering would eventually find a way back at me. Enter Red...

It was as if it was magically spellbounded to close up everytime I attempted. Had I not know Red before all this, I'd have unceremoniously made a run for the door at the thought of fucking a post-op.

Me: "Eh, I can't find..."
Red: "Too bad.. then you don't get to fuck me.."
Me: "Can I switch on the lights?"
Red: "No cheating..."

I run my fingers down her again, like a treasure hunter pouring over the pinpoint location on her contoured body. I keep the finger pressed upon the entrance to the forbidden. I shift myself, weight on my arms... now surely I'll make home base.

Then, that same feeling. Like me pushed faced first against a brick wall while taking two pills of viagra and a Thai prostitute fellating me though my pockets. ABSOLUTELY painful. Shit, Columbus found America and I can't find a fucking hole? This is absolutely shameful, I begin to wonder if I need to go in with torch lights and flare guns.

Me: "This is bad. I can't find the damn hole and my dick's dying. Do something!"

I winch in defeat. I might be mistaken but I think I ended that night blue-balled.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

The 10 Drink Challenge

The bitter aftermath of drinking is something I'll probably never get used to. That cursed headache, that insatiable thirst and that nauseating loss of appetite. Mixing drinks the way I do is a sure-fire for nasty hangovers, and if I know the consequence of my stupidity why do I still wade on? Call me masochistic if you may, I love consequences catching up with my actions.

I had a point to prove, since some of my friends reading my blog do not believe the copious amount of alcohol I claim to consume. Very stupid decision and a very expensive one too.

12mn: I arrive at Butterfactory. Pissed at Ukraine and Spain.

12.05am: The guys are at the members area. I see Vodka and Champagne.

12.08: I whip out my 10 drinks list. Dek is the only one who is taking up my challenge. YJ backs down from it.

The List.

1. Champagne
2. Blowjob
3. Sambuca
4. Tequila
5. Galliano
6. White wine
7. Flaming Lambo
8. Whiskey
9. B52
10. Lychee Martini

12.15am: The waitress brings Sambuca, blowjob and lychee martini. The guys at out table start stealing our lychees.

12.20am: We're done with the 3 drinks. Dek is keeping up well.

12.30am: The remaining drinks come together. The table is not big enough to hold everything so we take the Flaming Lambo at the bar.

12.40am: RedBug helps Dek take the Whiskey and B52. I decline external help and scorn at the 10 drinks. Instead of the proposed 2 hours. I'm going in hard and complete it under an hour.

I did all that in under an hour. Now thats what binge drinking should be about. I cant possibly lie about this when I have the whole fucking table of them as witness. I rule.

Souz propose we open another bottle of whiskey. At my state of induced happiness, EVERYTHING is a good idea.

I start buying random drinks for friends and tip the waitress $10. I had another glass of whiskey dry and 2 Flaming Lambos later...

I start having selective memory.

I remember complaining that everyone is a wuss. I remember puking at River Valley and Dek shouting to me.

Dek: "Be careful of your shoes!!!! ONITSUKA TIGERS!!!! ONITSUKA TIGERS!!!"

Then I got back, and I resume my all time favourite position. Giving my toilet bowl a good blowjob.

I was back to hugging the toilet bowl, AGAIN. Only this time I was actually sober. Hmmm, spending money to get smashed.. not very bright am I these days.

Edit: Red's blog is up. She's one yummy ice queen, but crazy enough to indulge me in my games. Truth be told, she altered some of the guidelines to the game when we played. If she allows, I'd write about one particular event we had which was particularly hilarious to me.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Butterfly Games

For a while now my dating life has been all about teases, bedroom banter and horrible mess ups. Everything to me should be a game. I'm not for the straight-jacket moral prefect and my words are vulgar to those who cannot take a joke, or a game well. I've been playing dating games for a while now and I've drawn out the demons in many who's been kind enough to indulge in my sinister games.

Welcome to the Butterfly Games..

The rules are simple, I made it such that bimbo's with the brain capacity of a Barbie doll can understand this. No emotional attachments to me.

Since it's a dating, we'll be dating. I will give my full day's attention to you, you can be assured of that. My rule is that at any point of the game, any party says "I love you", the game is over. Wait.. wait there's more.

The number of games is pre-stated, and both party consents. We each propose a forfeit which has to be agreed on and the losing party has to abide by it. The forfeits are chronologically progressive in its naughty nature. That is to say in layman's term, if its a hug today, the next will be something cheekier than that, like a pat on the back or a handshake. I'm kidding, but it only gets physically naughtier.


Me: "You'll spend a day with me. By the end of the night I'll bet I'll be able to kiss you."

If I win, I get to claim my prize. If you're reading this and it rings a bell, you'll be the only one to know if I won that challenge. Hush..

Example 2:

She: "We'll guess each other's weight, the closest one wins."
Me: "If I win, you are going to blow me."

We'll each take turns to come up with something to compete on. Naturally I'm swaying all games to my advantage and I USUALLY win most of it. Maybe they allowed me to win on purpose since my rewards are WAY more interesting then theirs or that it's been a secret fanatsy of theirs to service me, either way, I rule.

Alot of people don't see the point of my games. LB frowns on it and thinks its dumb. I however love it. I always said I love the impossible probable, the experience of chance and letting yourself submerge in fantasy, in pseudo romance, where you can pull the plug anytime you want to... or fall helplessly into oblivion.

My games require an enormous mantle of guilt-free conscience. Call it escapism, call it a sick fetish, but strangely my opponents are largely attached personnels. I offer them nothing but a promise of fun and that I'll never be beaten at my game.

Some snippets of my past.. the ones that went waywardly wrong.

1. The one that dumbfounded me.

She was 20 then, matured beyond her years and an avid fan of Anorexia Weekly. Our conversations revolved around conservative teasing, none of which were interesting enough for me to remember beyond the 3 sentences. Then one night it all changed..

She: "Do you want to see my baby?"

At the time of me driving her home and me trying to decipher if 'baby' was a coy metaphor for tits or clit, nothing else really mattered. Naturally, I'd also prepared myself that 'baby' was some tubby cat or a barking pup, but this was way less enticing to think about then the first. I continue to decieve myself.

Me: "Okay.. so do I wait here for you?"
She: "Yup.. you could."

Car Sex!! This is fucking awesome! I love being me!

Then she got out of the car. Fuck car sex. Even I know that she's not going up to put on some lingerie. I await the next best possibilty, a handsome husky. I sit there, a cold shower over my brimming anticipation only a minute ago, and now... I don't really like being me.

Then it got worse..

20m out, I see her walking back with something wrapped in her arms.. FUCK me in the ass. It's really a baby. This has to be the worst prank ever. I sit there dumbfounded as she approached, getting the baby to wave at me.

Me: "Fuck you really brought a baby!"
She: "Ya, I said so didn't I?"
Me: "Is that your brother?"
She: ".... she's my daughter..."

VERY awkward silence. I half contemplate turning up the air conditioning and killing all of us in the car with monoxide fumes. That would have been a great escape. I hate being me. Dating deities obviously hate me.. ALOT

Me: "This is a joke right..."

2. When I started playing my games, I never expected a backlash on my part. I never believed I had enough conscience to feel bad or that my games would have any psychological repercussions on me. I was wrong.

It took one conversation to mind fuck me for a period. This is the conversation that fucked me up. Here.

After that, I went on an "everyone is a slut" campaign. One good sex session later, I forget about everything and the world is perfect again.

3. The first time I played the game, it ended in 4 days. She told me she couldn't take, I quote, "your stupid games" and that she thought we should date seriously. I thought she was joking and started laughing at the absurdity of it. She didn't think it was funny. Worst.reaction.ever.

She eventually ignored me after that. Best decision of her life, that bitch.

4. The best erection killer.

This was one girl I really wanted to fuck. Everything was going smoothly, the kiss, the playful tickles, the teasing strokes on her inner thighs. I was even ignoring the tons of bikini clad babes on MTV Springbreak, trust me, it's not easy.

Then I moved in, cheekily lifting her skirt up a little and she countered with the best anti-sex defense move I've experienced since me kicking some chick in the nose.

She: "I'm a virgin.."

The vulgarity of it was a mix of repulsion and absolute fear. Deflowering her might encase serious consequences, like actual commitment. I pull her skirt back down, and leaned over to kiss her cheeks.

Me: "Let's just watch MTV."

5. The worst reward.

She: "You'll have to watch a movie with me if I win."

Huh? Catholic nuns in confession can think of more exciting bedroom stuff than that.

If you think you're good enough, step up. Of course, I don't play my games with just anyone. I have reasons and preferences. If you are fat and ugly, do not even bother unless you want to compete on who should be ostracized by society, and you're hoping the reward is a Sizzler buffet. If you are bored, hot and can surpass guilt or conscience. Thank your stars that you've found me.

Who's next?

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

It's funny

Dek got back from London recently and he told me the funniest thing. Apparently his friend there had sent him a blog url for an interesting read. Wait I correct myself, I think they said the correct words were..

Guy: "This guy must be the most Hum Sup (perverted) guy in Singapore!"

I'm failing to see any complimentary angle in that, but I'm hit with a kaleidescope of emotions. Firstly, I'm rather surprised that this blog is actually circulated in London. I know it's been passing round NUS for abit now, cos Sue tells me she gets friends telling her to come read the blog. But London?! Yes, I might get to write a book afterall.

Secondly, I'm upset that people fail to see beyond the superficiality of my stories. Do you guys really think I'm stating everything so matter of factly for no reason? And which stories show me being perverted? Obviously you guys don't see how victimized I am at the dire nature of my shitty hook ups. Right, it's because I'm a guy, so for the stuff I do or say, people say.. "This guy is an asshole". I quote verbatim from people posting links to this blog.

Well.. if I was a girl, you guys will be pouring me compliments for championing the female gender. Whatever. My only guilt is ironically my only grace, I'm honest. If honesty is a crime, then obsesity is a travesty to man-kind.

However, I will make no attempt to clear my tainted image. I'm am deeply in love with being me. I will shamelessly flaunt myself on MSN webcam for your viewing pleasure if you ask me to. And I still say..

Everyone should love me, if they know what's good for them.

Monday, June 12, 2006

The End Of A Social Life

Two words have innocuously ended my pact with all things sinful of late. My social life has come to naught and lethargy is setting in to a point where I'm trying to walk less than a culmulative 50m per day. I have neither the will to commit to banter outside the confines of my casa nor the desire to party religiously on sacred Wednesdays and Fridays. I have two words for you.. "Heart Broken".

The last time alcohol kissed my lips was Saturday, when Hed Kandi was spinning at MoS. I miss the aftermath of it, the rhythm of it still knocking in my head, my feet still sensing the impulse to dance and my lips still withered in longing remembrance of that Bacardi 151.

Ecstasy might have caught a glimpse on why the guys fear with their lives when I'm on juice and start spewing rubbish at clubs. I have to say, I was very well behaved. Lets see..

I shouted "BOB MARLEY!!!" at some Black dude with braides in Jamaican flag colours. Reggae boy was dancing awfully weird and I was the only guy there laughing my head off in approval. Reggae boy shook my hand. Hey, everyone should be friendly to me anyway.

Ecstasy pointed out some dude with broad chest to me and said "Arnold Schwarzenegger". I point to that Terminator dude and he shakes my hand. I'm on a champaign to get as many handshakes as I can. I'll need it when I run for minister one day. You think I'm joking? I'll cut off electricity to your home and make sure your daughter has to do NS. Bitch.

I can't remember how much drinks I had, but my club tab ran up to $160, so I think I drank enough. I do remember Argentina winning and me telling the guys to head to the bar cos I'm buying everyone a round. Oh, I might jinx this but my ego deserves too much stroking for me to bother for now. I'm PERFECT for the World Cup bets so far. That's 8 fucking matches, minus one stupid mistake I made. Whatever, I still rule.

GT4's friend got into some dispute at the carpark with a bunch of teenyboopers over an accident. WHAT THE FUCK?! Who the fuck gets into an accident in the carpark? Ohh.. that would be LB. Hilarious story of how when you are unlucky, shit happens to you when you least expect. I'll save it for another day.

Stupid people with cars = accident. Simple equation. And they say my equating is bad.

You can even shift it.

Stupid people = accident - car. I'm a fucking genius, I amaze myself. How did I ever fail A Maths 5 times to begin with?

I'm not joking when I said my social life is now a hypothetical construct of bed and tv. Unless you include giving my maid instructions for my dinner, I've kept most of my days limited to under 50 words. I'm a hermit. Soon, I'll speak like the people I've come to scorn, people with a mouth for stupidity.

I'll allow you to laugh at me, only once for now in this confession. I'm hooked on Naruto. I just started watching it a couple days back and I'm wasting no time at it. I'm at episode 99 as I type this while its streaming on a smaller window. God Bless YouTube. The greatest invention since the condom.

Anyway, I'm kidding about me being "Heart Broken" and all. If you read all the way here hoping that I'll tell you about the ONE that has defeated the Butterfly, then I'm sorry that my April Fools joke came 2 months late. That person might have existed, but not now. You also need to know that I am one person who has COMPLETE grip over my emotions and I can detach sadness almost instantly. No one is worth my time to wade aimlessly over.

That two words are "World Cup".

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

The Butterfly Sex Tease

I'm an asshole even in bed, but they love it. She loves it. It's been awhile since I've had so much fun in bed that I think karma is beginning to blow over it's grudge with me and finally let me off the hook. If you read this and you start smiling to yourself because the memory of it still lingers in you, then it's either because,

a) You've fucked me before.
b) You want to fuck me.
c) You've fucked someone like that before, when you really should be fucking me.

Except for the bed giving way during our make out, nothing disastrous has managed to wedge itself into the limelight, yet. So why am I writing? Dichotomy, dear Padawans. The extremes of matters are always worth my time to ink memories to words. This is not my usual laugh a line story. This one I'm writing because everything about it is so carnal, libidinous and vulgar yet none of it left the confines of the role play.

Sexual maturity maybe? I've had none. I won't lie to you, my sex life is cursed, you can read about it. I am the Marshal of all Sex Fuck Ups, bow before me and envy nothing for I give you nothing but content for your own lives, even if you are a virgin. To the armchair playas, vicarious living is now worth every minute of it now that you've stumbled onto my blog. Sit back, read and prepare to wank off and tell me you love me. Just don't do it simultaneously.

"Fuck me..." She whispers faintly to me, lying spread on her back with me 3 inches from her face.

Me: "I'll think about it."

Yes, I'm an asshole. Even in bed. I've never given girls want they want, not at least until I've made them work for it. Yet everything about her was so sexy. The way she stared into me, the way she commanded me, the way she pulled me closer.. everything.

She: "Fuck me! You asshole..."

She grips me tighter, trying to inch me closer to her.

Me: "I'll fuck you when I want to fuck you..."

I pull myself away. Our eyes both filled with enough comtempt to accuse eunuchs of anal sex. There was that vexative gaze in her brimming with disgruntlement for my 'licentiousness' on vanlla sex. That was the sight I fed on, the slightest validation of my dominance over her. Call it erotic dysfunctionalism, but I wanted to be the prize. I am the prize.

There was insouciance in my words, yet my touch never waivered far from passion. She knew this well, and this understanding was paramount for this verbal foreplay to climax.

She: "Fuck you.. you fucker.."

Her voice faint with resentment. I smiled. So did she.

That was the calm before the storm. Then we exploded onto each other, two voracious addicts over a single utopia, orgasm.

The vulgarity and carnal pleasantries between us had eroded. My tease had served it's purpose for now. Desire, and my impatience to fuck had marred my initial plan to play out the tease a little longer. I now had to bait my cherry, doth it upon her lips like a kiss, but attribute no permanence to it.

She pulls me closer to kiss. I shake her off.

She: "Kiss me..."

Me: "No..."

She pulls me in again. I press my palm against her chest, forcing her back onto the bed. Her eyes widen at my actions, almost as a warning to the consequences of it.

She: "I want to kiss you..."

Me: "Fuck you.. I said No"

She shifts herself violently as I continue to pin her done with my left arm. She struggles, tilting her head to the side in a valiant effort to bite me. Futile effort that begins to tire her. She stares into me again, with that same contempt laden eyes that had pierced me only minutes ago.

She: "You FUCKER..."

Me: "I'll fucking kiss you when you deserve it.."

And the tease went on. Neither would I allow her to kiss me, nor permit her to hit erotic jackpot. I'd tease, give her enough till she tells me not to stop, then drop her like a bad habit. I kept her frustrated at me, I was being a total asshole but I knew what I was doing. The caged animal is always the fiercest. There's alot pent up sexual frustration is capable of, I'm merely milking it for a taste to keep me full for the week ahead.

She: "Fuck you! Who said you could stop...."

Me: "I'll fuck you when I want to.. I stop because I want to. I never said you could cum."

She: "Fuck you.."

And that was how the game went. Naturally she got smart after awhile and would pretend she hadn't climax, though sometimes her convulsions gave it away. She'd laugh at my face after I stopped, bask in her moment of conquest for beating me at my game, then inadvertantly fall before my next tease.

I stroke her, tease my entry, then hurl insults at her. The tease was beginning to be a vicious cycle of an expletive contest, one with the absence of pride. The confines of sex as a game, a tease is one that has to be played without ego. Pride, is only a word before even the mighty fall before me.

She'd tease me, ride me, do anything in her to rain vengeance upon me. She was seasoned, eager to please and complemented me perfectly in bed. Sex was great, but nothing escapes my wrath.

Me: "Fuck you.. Is that the best you can do?!"

She stops, for a moment looking like a wounded animal. Perhaps that last comment was the straw that broke the camel's back. If you can't take a joke, you should never be around me. Verbal abuse during sex should be like water off a duck's back. But she knew me well. She smiles...

She: "Yes, I'm tired.."

I sit up, half attempting to tear away at her clothes, half keeping my balance. She pushes my hands off her chest and again when I move it within proximity.

She: "You'll have to fuck me with my clothes on..."

I furtively attempt it again, distracting her between trust and kisses. Stealth is not my game obviously.

She: "I said NO!"

The tables had turned. I now thread unfamiliar ground, the baited butterfly fluttering around the forbidden fruit. I lie her down beside me.

Me: "I'll just shoot it all over your skirt.. your shirt.."
She: "NO!"

Me: "Like I give a fuck..."

I prone over her, supporting my weight on my arms, close enough for a whisper, close enough for her to feel my breath. Then I plant my intentions of regaining that dominance. Slowly, I coax and tease. She closes her eyes, gratified at the apparent taming of a butterfly. Finally, I'm granting her hedonism. Then I stop.

Me: "That's it.."

I pull out and walk off. Oh I've been blueballed before don't get me wrong, but this is by no means revenge. This is just foreplay...

The Butterfly's foreplay.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

The First Blowjob Story

The first blowjob experience is always a milestone to be etched in our memories, just like that first kiss.. the first fuck.. the first time some bitch cheated on you. Beautiful memories those are. Mine's no different, but unlike all of you, I actually had this compartmentalized under "bad memories, needs to be deleted."

I remembered this after talking to Red on similar issues, and I figured it'll be good material, since it invovles me in a caprice of hilarity aimed to destroy all affinity I have with sex. It's been an experience I'd have taken with me to my grave, but incidents have happened of late and I'm no longer binded by conscience to hold my tongue. Let my wrath be heard..

The only thing worst than first timers, are first timers without a clue. This girl had until the first time she gave me a handjob, never watched porn before, let alone seen a live member. The handjob was forgettable, she knew she had to stimulate the dick, just that she had no idea how.

It was a valiant effort shaking my member from side to side and in circles, everything except stroking it vertically. I had to stop this from blowing into a fiasco and uttered my first pillow talk vulgarity, stop.

Me: "Stop.. stop.. It goes up and down.."

After I set her on the right course, inferring how the penis worked became easy for her. She was a smart girl, that I give it to her. She was willing to please, but lacked ALOT of imagination and experience. She was vanilla when it came to this. The question now remained, was she prepared to move on to blowing? It was a good thing she understood that stimulating the penis went in vertical motions, I can't imagine her shaking my penis wrapped in her mouth side to side.

I'm sure everyone's got a bad blowjob tale lingering somewhere at the tip of their tongue. There's only one enemy to the penis, it's called.. TEETH.

It didn't occured to me then that anyone who had never watched porn and attempting a virginal blowjob was a potential haemorrhaging hazzard. This was my forray into sexual suicide, one that I had misculculated. My oversight of the impending calamity came from a coupling of juvenile anticipation and excitement of a naked body and finally being initiated into sexual maturity. When someone's mouth is 2 inches from your member, calculating risk assessments are the furthest thoughts from you.

Then I felt it, the warmth of the mouth. Wet, warm and all calming. I was in ecstatic heaven, nothing could take this away from me. Moments from now I'll be having an orgasm and savouring every minute from now till then was what I'm gonna do. I was wrong. VERY WRONG.

1 Minute into the blowjob, I started to feel a slight pain. This cannot be.. blowjobs aren't supposed to be painful, are they? Could it be like a girl's virginal fuck and how there is that initial pain? Could I have not done enough extensive research into this? Strange, I could swear this was not how it was supposed to be.

Then she pumped harder, and the pain was excruciating. I pushed her head back. She looked at me. Perhaps I was not made for blowjobs. Perhaps it's an anatomical dysfunction. I was not to be beaten, I signalled her to continue.

And again the pain came. Then I realised.. She was scrapping my shaft with her damn teeth! My member was red, pulsating with pain and soreness. Had the fiasco been given another 5 mins to play out, my dick would have been swollen with blisters and I'd have been ejaculating blood and pus.

Me: "Baby, you can't use your teeth!"
She: "I didn't..."
Me: "Trust me, you did.."

Me: "Lick, suck.. just don't use the teeth."

We continued shortly after that, it was better. The pain came in sporadic intervals which made hitting orgasm the impossibile probable.

Me: "Baby, you have to suck it in vertical motion. Just keep the teeth out."

It went good, slow and pleasurable. I wanted more..

Me: "Yes yes.. now faster.. and suck harder."

Ever wondered what greed and over-estimation of another person's ability does to you? It fucks you up. In her over zealous effort, she had forgotten about my one fear and that one rule of the penis. NO TEETH ALLOWED. Three teeth grinding thrust was all that was needed to kill me.


I think back now and I'm amazed I didn't give up on blowjobs. She got better subsequent of course, but never really had the aptititude to reach foreplay main event status. Coincidentally, the best blowjobs I've had are from the two Japanese girls in my past. I'm pretty sure its a cultural thing, they have fundamental starter kits built in them I swear.

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Butterfly's 2 weeks of debauchery

I never thought it'd be possible to be out partying 11 nights in a row, but we just did it. Do I hear a record being broken? Pop the coke bottles and save the champagne because I'm taking a well deserve sabbatical from drinking. My liver is truly in dire states and I'm developing a mild adversion to binge drinking. I need rest, some good sex and alot of prata before I can resume what I do best, making a fool of myself.

Anyway, this is my party guide to Taiwan. Well, the censored ones at least.


This is like the equivalent of Zouk in Taiwan. Almost everyone has heard of this and it's been around for a while now. The good thing about this place is that it has two sections. The large main hall plays Hip Hop coupled with dancers prancing around in non-synchronized choreography and bartending sideshows. The other room is a mix of house and trance, nothing fantastic about that quality of music they play. Nothing near decent or good enough to have me invade the dance floor.

We went there twice and all I can say is that I could have spent my NT$1500 on PPV porn and still get a better marginal statisfaction level. Don't get me wrong, the place is nice if you dig Hip Hop. You can slug it out with all the other West Coast slanging, Bling Bling wearing, ghetto jumping, P. Diddy wannabes. Talk to the hand girlfriend.

But but Butterfly.. we love Hip Hop. Yes, you and the 90 percent of Taiwanese youths who can't string together a more perspicuous sentences than me on a tongue leash. I need variety. Give me House and Trance.

I give this, 3 out of 5 Butterflies

Club 151

I went there with LB and RoundEyes on the first Saturday. We were actually looking for another place when a kind policeman re-directed us here instead. The good thing was the NT$450 cover which came with a free flow all night.

I started hitting on the door bitch early into the night. She wasn't exactly very hot but she had sharp features and wore some killer heels. That was until she got off the stool and her height dipped alittle. The female hobbit was about 1.50m, with her 3" heels on. Yikes!

The thing about this free flow and like all other free flow clubs is that you have to hold on to your white plastic cup for the refills. The drinks are also limited to the usual suspects. Whiskey coke..gin lime..screwdriver.. wadever. Don't expect to get drunk on this shit. Jolly Shandy has more potency and probability to knock you out faster than gulping those pre-mixed urine.

Some fight broke out and the guys went out to watch. They ended up making friends with some old horse whom we suspected to be gay. I don't complain much because he took us out for supper and sent us back, largely because he was into LB. The club kinda turns into a huge sausage party after 3am. I know so, when I see men rubbing each other's dicks when dancing. Masturbating is NOT dancing.

2 Butterflies.

TU - Taiwan Underground

Hip Hop club, free flow.. very crowded, I felt like I was at a Mango store-wide sale. I hate people to do hip hop jumping dances when it's crowded, the muthafuckers keep crushing my toe. "ouch" is obviously not an international word cos they ignored me. I need to find the Mandarin version. Nuff said.

We had to squeeze into some members area. GT4 lied about being friends with some local prick and the bouncer let us in. We lie even when we are on holiday, Santa will be pleased.

2 Butterflies

Club 18

This is some club that's opened by some apparent celebrity whom I've not heard of. Anyway, the only two Taiwanese people that really matters to me are Elva Hsiao and Kelly Lin, anyone else is just a famous name. There's some other club Lava or Patio that's in the same building thats also very popular. *cough* Hip Hop *cough*.

The good thing about this club is that it has two rooms, one plays *yawn* hip hop again and the other plays a decent mix of house and break beats. The first night we get there, we open 3 bottle of whiskey which entitles us to a table. Ok here's the thing with Taiwanese disco's. Tables have to be paid for which is usually absorbed partially under the bottle cost. They call it "包厢".

We paid NT$8800 for 3 bottles. Its a package but call it anything you like, we call it a steal.

Waiter: "We have a promotion, NT$8000 for table and 2 + 1 bottle."
Me: "So it's 3 bottles for NT$8000?"
Waiter: "It's 2+1, buy two get one free."
Me: "Ermm.. that makes 3 bottles right?"
Waiter: "Yes, 2+1."

We went back again on another night to finish up the remaining two bottles with GT4 and some of his friends. Ok pay attention if you want to know how we picked the Taiwanese girls up.

First, having alot of drinks is a good start. You just need to go up to them and say, "Hey, can you help us finish the drinks?" or any variation close to that. When I'm close to being sloshed, I just tell them, "Come and drink with me." They usually do, but that's me. LB sometimes just waves for them to come over.

Second, speak in English or have an accent in your talk. However, if you can't slang for nuts, don't, its disgusting. I go up to multiple people asking, "Can I borrow a lighter." in immaculate English. They usually start talking to me after that. Guys and girls alike, usually asking me where I'm from. I say anything from Singapore to Australia to Japan, they don't really bother anyway. The bad thing is that I usually don't remember them after I leave, especially the guys.

Third, just be brave and start a conversation. Remember, you are on holiday. Even if you fuck up, no one is ever going to know. Plus, people are ALWAYS nicer to tourist because your time there is limited and no matter what happens, you'd be gone.

I'm not making the 3rd point up. The local girls there told us so themselves. So it's right from the horses mouth. Precious words that you'll need to remember. Hey, I've been told that 10 fuck ups leads to at least one fuck.

Fourth, be cheeky be witty but do everything in moderation. There's such a thing as vibe. If you think the girl's not baiting.. MOVE ON.

Fifth, having a maestro like LB in your camp is always a good idea. LB is the altruistic girl-finding campaign utility man. He'll get any girl you want, all you need is point and get the drinks ready. I'm good to have around before I get pissed drunk, after that I'll hurl random thrash talk at your girl if she is ugly or fat.

On the second night, we collectively hit on enough girls to form a net ball team, whatever that number is. There's a pretty bartender in the House section if you ever head there. Her name's Ivy. She gave us free drinks and mixes from time to time, so I'm not sure if my recollection of her is swayed by the drinks.

Just look at the picture post, the waitress and almost all the girls, including the worst Taiwanese girlfriend are from that club. Anyway, if you are into house and trance, Hed Kandi is going to be there in June, you should check that out. Hed who? Nevermind if you are still postering BEP and Ciara, my taste in party is alittle different from yours.

Edit: On one of the nights I got quite drunk and started puking on the walk home. Half staggering, half spreading my legs to puke between them while walking and clutching my shirt tightly against my chest so that I don't stain it. Absolutely GQ magazine glamourous. I woke up the next day feeling like I swallowed 2 cups of seamen and urine and swore that I was staying off alcohol for the trip.

That's what we ALL say after a hangover. 10hrs later, I'm back at the clubs licking the glass for the last drop of whiskey.

4.5 Butterflies


When we first got there, we knew close to nothing about the nightlife in Taiwan. Blame it on plenary laziness and over-indulgence in alcohol. We half expected the locals here to point us in the right direction. Never depend on them, EVER.

The next best thing we got was a map from the hotel which showed several nightlife spots to visit. THOSE MAPS SUCK. The places are either, closed, relocated or are made for old men. Those pubs suck. They are basically karaoke pubs where you an get the girls (some are young, the ones we met are actually pretty goodlooking) to sit and drink with you, for a fee.

We went to the pubs along ShuangChenJie which is littered with karaoke pubs with lots of working girls waiting to drink with you. We dived in, into the unknown, picking the club with the youngest prettiest girls, since eye candy should usually offset bad decisions. The shit thing was that if we wanted the girls to sit with us, we had to pay them something like NT$300. ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! Paying someone to drink my drinks?!

Girl: "Do you want us to sit with you?"
LB: "No its ok, I want to talk to him."
Girl: "Really? You can talk to us too.."
LB: "I think I'll just stick to talking to him.."

BORING, do not even bother. You'll have more fun watching the roadside vendors fry omelettes than sitting there hearing drunkards blow your eardrums to oblivion.

-1 Butterfly


I'm referring to the other KTV, the one where people actually get to grope boobs. I've already written about this in my previous post so I won't elaborate. Firstly, I think that paying NT$4000 for 2 hours is insane. Even with free bottles and a handjob. The girls aren't very pretty and there's not much more you can drink in the additional hour anyway.

My suggestion to you if you want the experience is to opt for a 1hr session which comes up to about NT$2300. You get 1 bottle and you get unlimited singing time. Just that the girls leave after an hour. Seriously, there's nothing fanatastic about them that you'll need the additional hour with. I think paying for handjobs are stupid... you can fucking pay me and I'll don a wig for you.

Unless you have ALOT of cash to spend.. give this place a miss.

4 Butterflies if you have money to burn. 1 Butterfly otherwise.


Huge shopping area with shops that just duplicate one another. The only incentive for walking into similar stores is seeing the pretty store assistants. This is one place I can spend an entire day chasing skirts. Taiwanese can really dress, period.

If you are very into shoes and casual wear, this is a devil's playground for you. I got lost in mindless shopping and my only restraint came with the thinning of my wallet. Bless credit cards. I spent about SGD$600 on clothes and I'm not even the leader of my pack. LB blew well over $1000 and Draco probably hit close to that figure with just a few shirts. And who says men don't shop.

One more thing I like about Taiwan which I forgot to mention, are the toilets. The toilets there are VERY clean. even for small departmental stores and fast food outlets. Some have cute automated gadgets like automatic seat lifting and stream jetting your ass with squirts of water. Either Taiwanese pride themselves with constant cleaning of the loo, or they don't pee or shit much.

The GREAT thing about Taiwan is that the shops close late. 11pm on a weekday and well over midnights on weekends. When I got back to Singapore I bitched alot about them closing at 9.40pm and wondered how I managed to get through life here. Oh yes, I don't go out much here anyway. I think I have to start adding these in.

End notes:

Though we spent every night out clubbing till the wee hours of the morning, I drank less alcohol collectively in that 11 nights than I did in my 4 days at Adelaide. I am no longer who I used to be, the revered binge drinker that scorned all others who fell before my mighty liver. My family rejoices at my docile indulgence and LB mocks me to tickle the drinker that's slowly retreating into dormancy.

This is the slow demise of the Butterfly that I'd once been so proud to challenge any who questioned me. Perhaps conscience and awareness is breeding fear into me. As of writing this, I've gone 5 days without alcohol and my liver is rested, so Ecstasy and Skye can tempt me with juice starting now. Tonight, I resume drinking duties once again, albeit moderately. Remember....

Only the good die young.

Friday, June 02, 2006

The Taiwan Picture Stories pt 2

This is the door bitch at Club 18. I gave up 20mins of sacrilegious drinking time to chat her up. Why do I like her? Cos' she has sharp features and she has a cute ass. I'm shallow. Hey, that's why you all love me. Ok, I'll give you a run down of what I said to her.

Me: "Where do I apply to work here with you?"
She: "They are not hiring now."
Me: "Anything else I can do to stand next to you all night?"
She: "You can come here again tomorrow."

There's nothing magical in the things I say. I said the above in broken Mandarin and still managed to get her contact and a kiss. It's all about getting the vibe and knowing your strengths.

Ok, I'm bullshitting. I was already tipsy when I started hitting on her, so it's all about chance.

Anyway, there was this other waitress that was way hotter and looked like Kelly Lin. That bitch refused to be photographed. I say it again, THAT BITCH. Seriously, she actually told me she would only take a pic for NT$200, and that I could stuff teh cash down her blouse. Oh, wait.. that's right. I was drunk and too cheapskate to catch the joke. Wadever.

This is the light of my week in Taiwan. She sells orange juice at a stall near where we stay. So everyday, I'll go buy a cup from her with the intention of chatting her up. The orange juice is pretty good but 3 straight days of drinking gets to you. I'm a conniving boy, everything has to have a motive.


I buy a cup and tell her to give em a discount for the following days. We make small talk.


I tell her the same shit I did yesterday because my Mandarin vocab allows to say funny stuff once a week. I've yet to expand my arsenal and have to stick to the normal banter.


We exchange numbers, she calls me after work and joins us for a night out on the town.

On one of the days she brought along her sister which LB liked alot. I can't remember the others but she met me everyday after that. So nice having someone in a foreign country. Everyone should have temp foreign girlfriends. If I was Prime Minister, I'll make dating foreigners while abroad mandatory.

The day before I left, I wrote on a piece of paper in verbatim,

"You are very cute, I'd REALLY like to kiss you."

I also said to her in Jap,

Me: "Kisu shitemo ei?"

She told me then that she didn't know what I was saying, but before I boarded the plane, she told me that she lied about not understanding and asked why didn't I say it to her again that night. Orrhh.. so sweet. Yawn.

Random club pictures with the girls. When I'm drunk, everything is a good idea. Even terrorising passerbys to kiss us before they pass. There are alot more but I'm having some problems with uploading pictures and it's pissing me off big time so I won't bother posting. That time is better spent clipping my nails.

I don't really know either of them. The top one I spoke to because LB was hitting on her friend. The bottom one I was random. I told her it was mandatory to take a picture as a toll fee for passing through us. This is actually the worst pic of her but its the only one that shows her boobs.

This is an example of why I say the English language is non-existent. 5yr old Singaporean kids on E can do a better translation than them. I can't believe its possible to print out something like that. Haven't they ever heard of Mircosoft Word? MS Word would never allow something like that to be even printed. In case you can't read, this is what it says

"Is it after the necessary dish, please put it to opposite meal in the plate of platform to insert number, you of desk to choose, attendants will arrange the good delicacy, will send to your dining table. thanks!"

Say what? What is this.. Da Vinci's code? A fucking anagram?!

Trying to infer is less fun than just blatantly laughing at their raping of the language. All together now..


Righ,t so since this is about me and everything should be about me. Here.. this is a picture of me. With my face on it. Save it, its going to be worth millions after I become President. I have lots of people telling me that mystery is always good, and hence I should never reveal my face. Seriously, do you think I bother about this mystery effect? The one reason why all this anonymity is that the consequence of my actions can come back to haunt me, hmmm wait.. that has happened alot before.

I'm a photo whore. If you leave me in a corner with a mirror, I'm going to be smiling at myself. I understand why people love taking pictures so much. It's not because we are vain, but because we see the beauty in us. If you look in the mirror and see only flaws, you are fucked up and should join the bulimic plastics. Go find a spot and vomit. Anyway, if all fails, there's always photoshop. Just pray that your photoshopping is better than mine.

Alot of people tell me I'm vain. I won't dispute that, I love myself. I don't believe anyone should hate themselves, it'll be a torture to look in the mirror everyday. They laugh because I pluck my eyebrows in the morning and I never leave home without waxing my hair. Yes, I'm meterosexual in a sense, but I believe EVERYONE should pride their appearance. Lazy people are ugly people. This trip to Taiwan has just confirmed the miracles of makeup. Bless Lancome and Anna Sui!

Ok, beauty is subjective, but obesity isn't. So if you have flabs hanging off you and you look like Humpty Dumpty after a buffet, you should really do something about it. I've blistered my fingers writing about the negativity of obesity and why they should pay double in clubs and why it's a crime. But, what the hell, here's another one. Obese people should never take pictures, everything will be about them.