The Uly Project

ok, i was bored. i needed a project and i dont mean another website. while i dont lack for male company in the office, its also one place where there are more virgins than in biblical jerusalem so a one time feel good lay was out of the question. after all, im not out to destroy any kids life, a little fun is all im wanting.

i began my undertaking. i have my eyes set on uly. quiet, timid, and seemingly oblivious to anyone and anything, he`s the perfect candidate for what i have in mind (oh, you will know about that in awhile...ssshhh). im adept at research, i know he enjoys drinking, likes good food, and he would never spend time alone with me if his life depended on it! but, he has this zit, and i know that he would be willing to do whatever to wipe it out. very casually (almost motherly, really), i presented him with a solution and he bought it!

a trip to a derma clinic, hours of malling, and several "till sunrise" drinking sessions, dinner at home, and more drinking bouts after, here he is on this pic... transformed and looking comfortably close...to me :)

hey! i can be wholesome too.

whoogee! it`s my birthday!

i just love birthdays, particularly mine. i savour that one day in a year when my family and friends come together to be with me and have fun! oh and we surely did that night at kanto bar! my sweet sir eric gave me a bouquet of roses, lovely! and dear melissa, how`d u know i adore flowers done in watercolor? some angel brought me the best chocolate cake ever, i was so unwilling to share it! 30 something years now and i really havent quite outgrown the thrill of having a birthday party.

the initiation of mordee

for months now, i have had the horror of reading bad article upon bad article in search of a writer. then came mordee. marlboro- smoking, red horse- drinking, and never late, i have found my kind of guy... to work with :) as is the tradition (of mine, that is), his very first pay check was dedicated to the pursuit of drunken bliss. and he brought a camera to document it too! oh we had fun! despite the band of oddly dressed ( borrowed from some undernourished fifth graders, no doubt) women (?) singing songs from days where hair sprays played a major role in people's lives. we could' nt care less, beer was flowing, everybody drunk, and the camera kept on clicking...welcome mordee! great to have you aboard!

sabel on my mirror

there i was, samantha jones in the flesh, only brown. i knew exactly what i wanted and mostly got it too. i was living my life on my rules and altering it was out of the question. then you came, so much like me and yet completely unlike. we were outgoing, outspoken, and carefree. but while manolo blahnik was making sure my heels were well- made, you delighted in P20 shirts. i drove like a maniac and you dont drive at all. i retain an accountant for my financial obligations and you dont really think a tax identification number is a must- have. still, you took me by storm and ive never been as willing to get blown away. and blown away, i was. my life made a complete turn and ive never been happier. i was never farther than an arms length from you and i never wanna be. i didnt and hardly cared to notice that lelit was slowly disappearing into the shadow of another lelit, the girlfriend of. i have completely forgotten the life that i lived for so long but it didnt matter, surely joy is priceless and whatever was given up was a very small price to pay. three years after, here i am. samantha jones no more. i look at the mirror, i see sabel , creation of ben cabs genius, reflection of what lies inside me.

like a bad fuck

and so i had my long weekend, courtesy of Andres Bonifacio. truth be told, i wasnt looking forward to it at all. see, i've been having so much bad mood lately that i have taken to burning incense and watching "pangarap na bituin", even reading tagalog novels. yes, those that come with lyrics of a love song on the back cover. i was determined to enjoy the time off and erase the possibility of despair creeping up on me so i planned the days carefully. my mind was set, each day will be dedicated to drunkenness at night and literary appreciation while mending a hang-over during the day. how fortunate i thought that jessie should own a copy of the much anticipated gabriel garcia marquez book, "the memories of my melancholy whores" because its on my list. saturday morning, the drunkennes now taken cared of, and a hang- over brewing, its time for literature, i laid myself on drowsy, my day bed, and started to read. at first, it was impressive. the idea of an ugly, practically penniless, ninety year old bachelor, celebrating his birthday with a whore to be, 14 year old, virgin seemed both perverse and appealing. i read on... and on... always anticipating that the next page would give justice to the raving reviews i read about the book. i want a climax... alas! the last page was turned and that climax was never to be. i finished the book infuriated. i felt like ive been flirting for hours with the hottest guy in the room, manipulating every element necessary to end up in bed with him, and after all that dirty talk and gallons of sweat... no orgasm! all i could do was get up, light a smoke, and pass the book to girlie. what can i say? misery loves comapany ;)