#30DayWritingChallenge: Losing.

Day Twenty-Four: Losing.

During the Nineties, Battle of the Brains was one of the more popular game shows on local TV. It was a weekly quiz show where different schools would send a team of delegates to compete with each other, answering questions from various categories (Science, Arts, Current Events, etc). During sixth grade, I was sent to compete in the Elementary School competition of the show with two other classmates.

Battle of the Brains

I’ve been in several inter-school quizzes before: Math Quiz Bees, Science Quiz Bees, Campus Journalism Meets. You can say I was the mental counterpart of school athletes. I was hopeless in sports and physical activities, but I was quite good in competitive quizzes. During grade school, I realized that it was an easy way to win high grades and exam exemptions from teachers. I still joined inter-school competitions in high school, but my more conservative high school teachers were not too impressed by it; my high school grades dipped because I was mostly a very lazy student.

Prior to the show, our team was put in a relatively intense training. Teachers sometimes pulled out from class so we can do mock quizzes and they timed us when answering various questions.

During the show proper, I remember being underwhelmed by the studio. It was much smaller than I expected from what is shown on television. It was grubbier and not as “high-tech” as how we thought it would be.

We lost. (This entry’s title was a giveaway, wasn’t it?)

We were second place, with a very close score with the winning school. Partly it was because of a True or False question that was initially answered incorrectly: I thought, because of only two options for an answer, answering incorrectly invalidates attempts to “steal” the points. The team that won was not above taking advantage of an answer that was practically given away.

#30DayWritingChallenge: The one that got away.

Day Twenty-One: The one that got away.

I don’t think have ever written anything about Jemai. So here is one for Throwback Thursday.


We met in someone’s birthday party in the early 2000s. A friend in Livejournal decided he will celebrate his twenty-first birthday by kissing twenty-one guys.

(Was it his twenty-first? There must still be some record of it in Livejournal somewhere, but I’m not going to look for it; I will eventually discover loads of other stuff. Anyways, humor me on this recollection.)

I was, I think, Guy #11. Jemai was Guy #12. After we had our separate turns making out with the birthday guy, a common girl friend introduced us to each other and asked that we make out. She was into guys kissing. Jemai and I made out on the spot.

It became a frequent sight after that, Jemai getting drunk and making out with me in parties, sometimes in front of our friends. We even had photos of it. Fun times.

But we also started seeing each other.

#30DayWritingChallenge: The internet and me.

Day Eighteen: The internet and me.

An average day, occasionally written in the first person plural.

06:09 AM
Woke up. Checked the phone for new messages and notifications. Fell asleep again halfway through.

07:23 AM
Woke up properly. New messages in Facebook (ignore until midday). Fed the cats; they had been scratching our legs for the last two hours.

08:19 AM
Twitter sinkhole.

09:46 AM
New Viber message. Did not open it yet so it will not be seenzoned. Opened Godsville and sent our hero to the arena.

10:27 AM
Have we had breakfast yet?

11:51 AM
Fourth political tweet of the morning. Liked seven posts in the Facebook feed. Nothing interesting when timeline was refreshed.

12:11 PM
No, LiNa we are not interested.

01:47 PM
Finished downloading yet another movie I will not be watching any time soon. Pokemon Shuffle.

02:02 PM
The new Fairy Tail chapter is up!

03:45 PM
Skimmed through the articles in io9, Wired, and The Mary Sue. Picked several articles from the RSS feeds. Scheduled some tweets for later and tomorrow.

04:17 PM
Argued with someone in Twitter. Subretweeted.

05:43 PM
Fed the cats. Stop coming between my face and the phone’s screen, Godzilla.

06:28 PM
Fifteen new Instagram hearts! Oh. Four of them were for previous photos.

07:01 PM
Nothing interesting in Pinterest. Why didn’t we see this Facebook private message sooner?

08:39 PM
Nothing worthwhile in Grindr. Nothing worthwhile in PlanetRomeo. Nothing worthwhile in Hornet. A new woof in Scruff, but we don’t like his profile bio.

09:11 PM
Thought up of a pretentiously smug tweet. Takes a photo with a book cover in the background for added smartypants appeal.

10:24 PM
We have not yet written anything for that #30DayWritingChallenge. Quick blog entry.

11:44 PM
Spotted another hoax in Facebook. Man, these kids on the internet.

12:51 AM
So sleepy. Don’t forget to plug the phone to the charger. Maybe one last look at Twitter…

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

Today’s 30-day writing challenge topic is “a kiss”. Can I cheat and just repost this entry I posted the other day, instead?

He kissed well and was not self-conscious about it. Oh well. I’ll forget his snide remarks.


Scruffy men kissing.

Maybe I should start hitting on guys in dating apps and hook up with someone by noon so I can write about a kiss.

#30DayWritingChallenge: A strange phone call.

Day Four: A strange phone call.

There is this guy, he calls himself Gabriel. Every time I see him calling me, it means one thing: the guy is horny.

Often, I ignore his call. I might be doing something, or I just don’t feel like it. If I was busy but would still want to have some fun, I’d SMS: Busy right now. Call me in X minutes.

For most guys I had phone sex with (and most guys I sleep with), I can still engage them in conversation other than sex. We’d talk about work, complain about traffic, do small talk. It’s cool, doing that. It humanizes the other person, and I get to know them beyond moans and grunts we share while we are intimate with each other.

But not Gabriel.

The guy is always down to business. After we both came, he will end the call. No perfunctory “thanks, man” or “I’m gonna wash up first”. There aren’t even good-byes. We both came, phone sex is over, end of call.

Which is so different from how he is while we are on the phone. He’s wild and passionate and noisy. He likes it when I say his name, when I tell him I “love” him, when I say I won’t fuck anyone other than him.

Phone sex, being purely aural (pun not intended), requires a lot of imagination so both people can get off. Both participants should also be game in hamming things up for each other. I would say things I wouldn’t day out loud during actual sex because it helps build up a fantasy both the other guy and I can take part in.

Unlike actual sex where sometimes I wonder if the other guy was acting too enthusiastic because of porn fantasies, there is no need to wonder about it in phone sex. I already know the answer: We are. And that is okay because, most of the time and with guys I’ve had several sessions(?) before, I know we are both into it.

Phone sex SMS.

Lately, Gabriel has taken a liking into doing phone sex threesomes. He would call and get another guy conference with us and the three of us would get it off. So far, it is a different guy every time. How many guys does this dude regularly talk to? It was awkward, at first, but I am surprised how easy it was for me to get comfortable with it. It does break the illusion when he asks if he is the only guy I would fuck.

I used to wonder if I’ll ever get to meet Gabriel, if we will ever have sex for real. I doubt we will and maybe it is better that we won’t. He is sexier and more attractive as that disembodied voice urging me to mount him and ram him harder.