Porn Idol

Why the hell are we going inside and spend £3, when we can get free entry flyers at Old Compton Street?

It was a night out that had gone wrong (well, not really) with Ray, I, and his friend Jen, when he explicitly told a lie as we were passing by Charing Cross station. He got ‘curious’ at this bar called Heaven, and it will be first time to venture in this club.

This gay club? Please. It was only last week that we’ve been here with Edric, so, why come back here and risk the fact that he brought a straight girl friend.

I was supposed to bring them to a simple English pub to experience the traditional Briton nightlife. However, it got the best of Ray when he explicitly dragged us to this, erm, revealing place. I got a bit miffed, primarily because it was really not right to lie, and second, it’s not really good to drag someone who clearly doesn’t have an idea who I really am. I can’t help but think if God is testing me or not.

Anyhow, since we both have to act like we’re naïve or something, we asked a lot of nonsensical questions on the bouncers and bartenders, like the entrance fee, where the toilets were located, and the minimum card payment value.

The three of us managed to take a spot while eyeing on the different hot guys dancing. It felt funny as I spotted Filipinos coming in herds.

“Baluarte ng mga Pinoy,” I whispered to Ray.

Seriously. The ages would range from about 20s to late 40s, and it was amusing to see that they looked as gay as ever.

After a few more songs, the lights went back on, and it meant only one thing.

It was time for Heaven’s special Thursday show…. Porn Idol!

Going back, we were asked by these effeminate party organisers outside the club if we would fancy registering for this contest. Hello? Me, stripping in front of hundreds of people, just for some money? No way, man. Maybe if I get a bit inebriated, then fine.

I was about to faint because I was trying my best to keep my excitement to a minimum whenever I feel that Jen would eye me from head to foot.

There were 9 contestants that night, and they have to strip on stage, and based from the audience and the judges’ scores, the winner will get a 100 quid.

I left Ray and Jen at the back and moved a bit closer to the stage to get alongside with all the cheers, boos, and the cramped spaces.

So, one after the other, contestants strutted, stripping off their piece of clothing, either showcasing something mouth-watering or something disgusting. And everyone just bit their lips when a Spanish couple kissed torridly on stage while stripping off their clothes, revealing their God-damn-it bodies.

Even after cheering loudly for the Spanish couple, they only won second place. I almost lost my voice for them! A chubby Cypriot guy won just because he shook his arse like Shakira. The British public sometimes have their share of insanity.

Instead of getting conscious of the possible repercussions, I just chugged my Jack Daniels, whilst dancing to the tune of The Time (Dirty Bit).

It felt so intoxicating. The boom boom sounds resonating on the dance floor, with the piercing white, blue, yellow, and pink dance lights that flicker every millisecond.

I never wanted it to end. It felt so good letting all my inhibitions go, every for just this night. Hell, I was working for 40 hours already since Sunday.

Now that I’ve thought about it, I actually don’t care anymore. The reason why life is getting frustrating is because I always think how people will perceive me.

That is wrong, painfully wrong. It’s like you’re digging your own grave if you keep on doing that. It’s your life, not theirs. Why think so much about what they will say? Yes, culture and society play a role here, which is why London is the place to be… for letting all your inhibitions out, just for this moment in your life.

That is why my friends, I can’t wait to go back to Manila, to meet my cyberfriends, and venture on the bars along Malate.

The Shake-Up

First, really sorry for the lack of posts. Got really busy in school and work, to the point that I am not sure if I am back in college or not.

Finally, after finishing a Marketing presentation and a 3000-word assignment, it’s the time to reflect again.

Last week was the advent of a new beginning for Josh. I dunno what God wants me to do or not, but I just have to take it as it is, right?

And pardon me, my creative juices was totally drained from the assignment, so I just have to write in a news-orderly manner.

-----

It all started with a message… from PlanetRomeo.

I got amused by his quote in his faceless profile. “Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional.”

My instincts told me to reply and say something witty like, “Suffering is inevitable as well. It’s how we deal with it that is optional.”

And I did just that.

And after the couple of exchanges, it got a bit overwhelming.

The funny thing was, he’s also a Filipino who has been here for just 3-weeks. Goodness, I thought he was American or something because of his grasp of the language, not to mention his profile said that he only speaks US English.

And he needs help, because he’s jobless, not to mention about to be homeless.

The old Josh back in Manila would just shy away from the meet-up that was supposed to happen at Waterloo Station the next day. A faceless person in a very dodgy website.

But, as if London had changed him, it feels like he has the responsibility to help dispossessed people, especially Filipinos, to cope up in this unforgiving city. And I decided to give it a shot.

And I have to say, it was the right decision. I think.

It was decided, after the getting to know part in our short tour around Chinatown, Earl’s Court, Piccadilly, and the streets of Soho, that he can be my person here, in Britain’s capital.

No, Ray will not be that kind of person. Just a simple person to talk to.

The problem is, why is my heart suddenly beating in search for life again, after a few weeks of dormancy?

And yes, for the past week, I’ve helped him find a place to stay, met a few classmates and colleagues of him, and it’ll just a couple of days before I will be his new roommate.

Shh, guys. Think what you like.

-----

We were outside Heaven, and Edric, Ray, and I were just waiting for dance floor to open.

After walking around Oxford Street, Ray and I decided to meet up with Edric and grabbed some drinks at The Yard.

And then, when alcohol got the best among all of us, the truth started to unfold.

It has been confirmed. All of us had something in common, in varying degrees.

I’ll not go into details, but all of my speculations have been proven, and vice versa as well. Yes, the background details kept on coming out.

“Actually Josh, I was really feeling it already. No straight guy would frequent Soho like it’s their second home or something,” Edric said.

Oh… is that it? What the hell has just happened for the past few weeks? God really played a part, isn’t it? It only means one thing then.

My primary life and my other life are officially overlapping.

And this will might be the last time I will update and write something in this blog. As my other life is slowly getting intertwined with my primary one, I guess it’s time to respect each other’s privacy and take things from here.

I’ll really miss writing though, but, as if I have readers in the first place. I don’t think it will be a great loss if I commit self-immolation.

An Order Call

Josh: Thank you for calling. How can I help you?

Customer (guy): I'd like to order some pizzas please for delivery!

He had a very perky voice. Very amusing. Order taking session went on as expected.

Josh: So, your order was.... (repeats order). Anything else?

Customer: No that would be all thank you.

Josh: That would be 23.49, and delivery time is around 45 minutes.

Customer: Cheers. By the way, just want to say, I love you....

Josh: *silence*

Customer: To the pizzas...

Josh (whose face went like a tomato): To the pizzas?

Customer: Yeah. To the pizzas. *Laughs heartily on the background*

Josh: *laughs as well* Well, then, thank you. Cheers... bye!

That was one weird and funny call. And it was so tempting to get his phone number from the computer and contact him after work. LOL.

Frustrated Lover

It is a perpetual cycle.

Getting to know someone. Being infatuated. Falling in love. Professing it. Working your way to the highest point of the relationship. Slowly knowing each other’s differences. Getting annoyed and tired at the relationship. Trying to make it work. Giving up. Breaking apart. Searching for new love.

Over the past couple of years, it wasn’t a very smooth ride in terms of looking for my Romeo. Yes, there came a time that someone loved me, but I still wasn’t sure of myself, so I just shunned his feelings for me. Yeah, I was a jerk.

For most other times, I fell for someone that is almost always under these five categories.

One, he’s straight.

Second, he’s taken.

Third, he’s too good looking/perfect for me.

Fourth, he’s interested, but distance will come into play.

And last but not the least, he might be gay, but he’s stopping his desires by immersing into divinity.

Yes, it’s pretty sure that most, if not all of us has experienced this. Getting frustrated in terms of love. Why can’t it be more tameable? Why can’t it go our way?

Then again, life will be boring and monotonous if it were too predictable and generous.

But seriously, when one is in the middle of a social circle wherein peers are moving on with their lives, falling deeply in love, being successfully reciprocated and so on and so on, who wouldn’t be tempted to go sulk in a corner, disdaining all the good things happening around you?

It will even get frustrating come Valentine’s Day, where couples from all over will flaunt their ‘undying’ love for each other, while the singles will just have to bear the day by engaging in work, school, and taking the commute home with all those lovely jubblies screaming at you.

And this, is the anatomy of a frustrated lover.