Phone-In Question

We were having this Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity Seminar when the Arjay Mercado mentioned that for HIV to be transferred through saliva, we would have to drink (for the lack of a better term) buckets of it before acquiring the said virus.

To wit, the speaker added, “matindi-tinding MOMOL ang kailangan nun.”

As expected, the crowd roared in laughter. However, my seatmate stayed silent, a bit dumbfounded by the situation. When the boisterous hysterics has subsided, she sheepishly asked me in her usual conyo accent, “what’s MOMOL?”

The question is fucking golden. When you’re so used to having people around you (including yours truly) add malicious shit to almost anything and everything, stolen moments such as this one is like a breath of fresh air. To be honest, it’s actually pretty sweet that she still has this tinge of innocence, considering that she already has a boyfriend at her tender age of seventeen.

Nevertheless, she reminds me of the 15th Rule of the Internet by the Urban Dictionary: the more beautiful and pure a thing is, the more satisfying it is to corrupt it.

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On Guilt and Promiscuity

I have attempted to watch Diary of a Nymphomaniac for about twice now but it was only yesterday when I finally mustered enough courage (albeit maturity) to finish the film. Throughout Val’s occasional soliloquy on her musings about her own promiscuity, Sir Neil Santillan’s unanticipated lecture on Gender and Sexuality kept resonating at the back of my head.

Our professor was giving a brief overview of the ancient Indian civilization when the discussion veered towards the Kama Sutra. A bibliophilic classmate of mine debunked the misconception that the Kama Sutra is nothing but a sexual guide for the public. It was, in fact, more of a hygienic manual rather than a mere piece of erotic literature. This brought the inappropriately suggestive movie counterpart of the book into question. However, the part of the debate that left an indelible mark on me was when Sir Neil probed on the apparent guilt of women in terms of virginity, or lack thereof.

In our conservative culture, virginity is an overused social construct utilized for judging women’s worth. With this bias, we are preconditioned to think that if we engage in premarital sex, we’d be ultimately stigmatized and considered as sinful and immoral. Conversely, if we chose to keep our virginities intact, we are bound to be placed on this esteemed pedestal of incorruptibility and high moral resolve. But in a devoutly Catholic setup, even the casual discourse about sex is taboo.

I dream of a time when people are measured by the yardstick of common sense, and not through some abstracted means of qualifying gender.

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Locker Room Talk with AL

Locker Room Talk with AL

(c) ask.fm

Before our Construction class, AD, AL and I were killing time through the usual small talks. I’m quite notorious for my lewd line of thinking so in my defense (just in case he associated the question to me and while I had the chance), I told him that I wasn’t the one who asked the question.

Believe it or not, it really did not come from me. Nevertheless, I found it sexy that he was daring enough to ‘fess it up. I thought he was only messing around with the anon, but the trail our conversation left afterwards suggested otherwise.

As perverted as I am, I still wasn’t able to steer clear of the awkward feeling when AL narrated how he first discovered the hedonistic world of pornography. But I shrugged it off anyway and asked if there was any porn star he preferred. Turns out, he liked amateur videos better since they were more realistic.

AD naively asked if he accompanied the act of watching porn with another physical activity often associated with the former. I was relieved that he didn’t answer it directly. That would have divulged too much information; more than what I could have probably been able to digest without developing a bias against him.

DM’s sexy dances cannot be compared to this sexual innuendo.