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The Diary of a Guy with Body Dysmorphia

August 18

"Thank you. You too are not bad.”

Read an instagram message. It was a reply after I DMed him and told him that his body was hot. His body is not the hottest body I’ve ever seen, nor kind of a body that makes me go down a dark hole and feel insecure and ashamed about my body the way I see the model’s retouched body on MensHealth cover. But still, he deserves a compliment. or So I thought. But his reply just agitated me. “Not bad?” Who do you think he is. Didn’t he see pics of my abs, pecs, arms, and back on my Instagram cascade? His body is not hotter than mine. 

And then there I was. wasting my AM time getting pissed being called “not bad.” All I knew was that I could’ve had been in a house party that my friend always did every weekend. Getting high with E. Got topless (cuz that’s the rule of the house party). Feeling invisible. And getting the attention from other topless men in the house party. I regret staying home.

Early on in the evening, I knew my body was tired AF, as soon as I finished a dinner with a friend, and I told the demon who kept telling I should “go out and get wasted cuz it’s friday” to back the fudge off. So I got home. Got lazy on the couch, giving myself a pat on my shoulder cuz I’d be having a drug-free night and would sleep early - as opposed to partying all night and NOT sleep at all. 

But, boy, I was wrong. The moment my “BDD” took off (I forgot what triggered it), I started looking for the validation. The validation that tells me my body is muscular. The validation that tells me I’m above average. The validation that tells me I’m belong to a “jock" tribe

So there I was, forgetting all “mindfullness” meditation technique I’d been learning the past weeks, and ended up doing the stupid ABC of “how to convince yourself that your body is hot.” A: A million selfies tl you like one.

I started with taking selfies on the reflection on my bathroom mirror. PandF. Posing and Flexing. And would only stop until I get the pic that would say “your arms are big, your six packs abs is there, your chest is defined. etc.” But that’s still not enough. I was flexing. I was cheating. I need another proved. It’s time to go to the B step: Bodyjam.

I took my go pro cam. I turn on my bluetooth speaker. I open my Apple music playlist. Then I play the song I wanna dance to. Then I dance with my topless bod, getting recorded by my go pro. It’s like I’m making an audition videotape to apply for Magic Mike. But my true intention is, again, to look at myself on the screen and see how well-defined my muscular is shown from the video. I was happy with the arms from a side look. My shoulders were solid; There were abs there. But there were dozens other thing I don’t like from the video. People can see that I don;t have a flat stomach. My chest is not that grande. And definitely not a super clear V shape body. Conclusion: I’m still not convinced that I have a good body.

Then I moved to the C part: Cock. I open all my dating apps, hunting men with the muscular body type. All i need is that these men are turning to my profile and tell me “I’m hot” or “they wanna have sex with me.” So I spent hours just to do that. I got few messages, but they’re not from the ones that are eligible to give me the validation I want. Luckily enough, ever since I met my therapist, the suicidial thought has never occured anymore everything my BDD hits me. 

I eventually took a sleeping pill, double the dose that I’m supposed to take. To make mody fall asleep and forgot all of these. Temporarily.

[harderbettersluttier]

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my forbidden social network...

[harderbettersluttier]

2008 - 2012: slutty and healthy. Thank you, condom!

[harderbettersluttier]

Don't Tell My Mom What Happened in Yangon! pt. 1

I never had any intention to go to Myanmar (Burma) ever since I heard that by visiting the country, you’ll inevitably share your money to the ruling junta - the government who’s been oppressing its citizens. But then I kept hearing (mostly from the fellow travelers whom I met along the way) that Myanmar was the most amazing journey they’d ever had. Then I saw how marvelous one of the Burmese cities called Bagan was through a youtube video. The city was such a magnificent historical site as it hosted thousand awesome-looking temples built by the world’s once biggest kingdom (also called Bagan) in ancient civilization era. On top of that, one airline company sold a cheap flight tix from Bangkok to Yangon (the former capital of Burma). So I decided to go there and I succeeded to persuade my two faghag lady friends to be my bodyguards go with me. And for the first time ever, I traveled overseas without any intention or plan to sleep with the locals - as all I could think was only seeing the thousand-temple city!

Bagan was 10hours bus journey from Yangon. As soon as we landed in Yangon, we took the earliest bus to Bagan. Once we arrived in Bagan, which was like 4 am in the morning, a horse cart driver picked us up in the bus station (don’t expect any taxis in Bagan! horse cart is their taxis!). So we got in to our limo horse cart and the “horse guy” helped us finding a hotel to stay. It was November and for Myanmar’s calendar, it’s a peak season. So we basically stopped in every hotel we passed and let the horse guy asked if the hotel had any room available. As you can guess, it was 4 am in the morning, finding a vacant room was like finding a virgin gay boy in Bangkok. Difficult as hell. However, on our 8th stop, we finally got lucky. Well, not 100% lucky. The hotel told us there would be a vacant room in the afternoon. We’re told that we could wait in the balcony and they would give us a mattress to sleep on. Not bad!

Fast forward to my 4th day in Bagan, I couldn’t believe it’s time for us to head back to Yangon. Time flew so fast and I really did enjoy staying there. Cycling from one temple to another was just joyful! The sunrise and the sunset from a top of a temple; looking over a landscape full of ancient temples were like the most speechless moment I’d ever had. Bagan is definitely a place to visit before you die!

Fast forward to my 2nd night in Yangon after we got back from Bagan, I started feeling “homesick”. I missed Bangkok, or to be exact: I miss the boys in Bangkok. Having busy schedule and always sharing the hotel room with my friends prevented me from having a “me time”. As a result, after 7 straight nights of being “virgin”, I went cruazzy. I kept telling Cindy and Sandy (a german and a thai lady - real lady! - who were with me) that I wanted to grind a boy sooo bad. I could’ve checked my grindr to see the near boys around me. the problem was: Yangon was not as advance as Bangkok. the wifi was not widespread. we’re basically cut off from our internet privilege. and in many cases, the internet connection was so slow! slower than a snail carrying an elephant. the point is: I couldn’t rely on my grindr (or any other hook up sites) to have someone to rape

On my 3rd night in Yangon - which was the last night before we finally flew back to Bangkok - my madness was less severe. I kept telling myself that only one day left before I came back to the Asia’s sluttiest town. we had a nice last supper in a thai/burmese restaurant that seemed to be a hip place for Yangon’s standard. around 10pm, we left the restaurant and walked back to our hotel. During the walk, I reminisced with the good memories I’d shared with Cindy and Sandy over an adventure in Au San Suu Kyi’s home land. I told myself that I really had an amazing time. But then someone accidentally nudged me; ruining my nostalgic thought. The guy who nudged me happened to stop, look at me and say sorry in such a brief way. I told him, who was tall and cute, “it’s okay!” in just a blip. So the guy (who was with another guy whom I assumed to be his friend) turned back, continued walking ahead of us.

Coincidentally, after few intersections, the girls and I still walked behind those two guys. It seemed that we were heading to the same direction. I did not really notice it at first, since as soon as the guys walked away, I got busy chatting with Sandy and Cindy. We then happened to pass a condom seller (yeah rite, apparently in Yangon, it’s normal to see condoms sold on the street, just like water drinks or cigarettes) and Cindy and I immediately thought of buying a Burmese-made condom as fun memento for our friends. So we stepped back to the condom seller and did our shopping extravaganza. To my surprise, the two guys walked back towards us and also tried to buy the condoms. Next thing I knew, the tall guy asked me if I were a tourist. and I said yes. Three minutes later, after we finally made a deal with the condom seller, the tall guy still talked to us three. He introduced him self as Maung while his friend’s name was Sao. Apparently Maung knew some Bahasa, German and Thai! (while the other guy, who’s much shorter, was just mute and didn’t talk at all. all he did was smiling). Then we kept talking and walking and talking and walking, and once Maung and I were ahead of the others, Maung was like “I really like your style”.

Pause.

“Then?” I asked.

Pause.

“Err… I’m not gay but I like your style” He said. (p.s., this is a Burmese gay style. I mean, I read somewhere before that many Burmese gays, especially the rural ones, never consider themselves gay because, due to the conservative family background, they thot it’s better to stay in the closet and thot someday they’d eventually marry a woman)

Back to another pause.

“Then?” I asked him again.

Pause.

Another Pause.

Sigh, so I initiated to say “yeah, let’s go have a quick hour!”

“Cool! Are we going to your hotel room?” He asked.

“No, we are not. I am sharing a room with the girls” I replied hesitantly. “What about your place?”

“My place is far from here. and I live with my parents”

“Okay, do you know any hotel we can go to?”

“I honestly don’t know!”

“Huh? I thought you are an expert of picking up random boy on the street! You are supposed to know where to go once the ‘fish bites your bait’!”

“This is actually my first time!”

“Whaaaaaa?”

Then the others caught up with Maung and I. I immediately told Cindy and Sandy that they could go ahead to the hotel without me. Cindy looked confused, or worried, to be exact. She even gave me a goodbye kiss on my cheek. It seemed that she thot she’d never see me again. I did manage to bring some condom I just bought. It seemed that some of my friends in Bangkok would not get the "memento" condom I planned to give. On the back of my head, I knew I was about to do something dangerous. What if the guy happened to be a psycho, or a pirate sent by the junta to make a ransom, or a guy who’d smuggle me to be a sex worker (err… I think I’d be happy with the last option). But I also knew that that moment was such a rare, unique opportunity. I mean, almost from all gay white travelers I met in Asia, I heard stories of them being picked up by random gay locals. Being white in Asia somehow marks them with a bold recognition and endorses the gay (horny) locals to be upfront cuz these locals know that white guys are such a rare breeding in Asia. So that night, I told myself “It’s my time, bitch!” It’s my chance to finally be able to say “hey! I had similar experience too!” if another white traveler tells me his “easy hookup” traveling moment.

So what happened next? We did what bible told us to do. Bible says that If you are "lost" in the city, ask cab drivers' help. They always have an answer. They always know where to go. They know the city more than anyone else. Maung took a lead and approached a taxi driver who was parking close to us. The two seemed to immediately engage the conversation in such a serious manner. The back of my head somehow translated their Burmese conversation into: Tall guy: Sir, I do have a lone foreign guy whom we can easily stab once we go into a forrest or somewhere hidden. Taxi driver: Nice! I know where to sell a kidney! Tall guy: Cool! Let's go to our potential crime scene then! well, that's just in the back of my (so-not-adventurous) mind. and I obviously hoped that's not their real conversation. so the three of us then got in to the cab with Maung and me sitting in the back seat. Maung told me that the cab driver knew the hotel we could go to and we were gonna head there. I was clearly wrong when I thot the hotel would be still around the downtown area. Fifteen minutes later, we were still in the cab and the view from the window get less and less traffic lights. It was pretty evident that we were heading to the city's outskirt.

*** to be continued

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Don't Tell My Mom What Happened in Yangon! Pt. 2

The taxi we rode was more suitable to be in the museum than in the street. well, fossil-looking taxi were everywhere Yangon. Being a country that's facing economic sanction from many western nations makes them suffer from "sticking to 80s car" curse.

As I expected, the ride to only God knew where was bumpy as hell. I did my best not to feel nervous and enjoyed the view. Well, by view, I meant the fact that the more we went further, the less building in sight. It was pretty clear that we were going away from the downtown to the outskirt area. The tall guy started rubbing my thigh. I was not sure whether it was mere lust or he actually tried to calm me down. Soon enough, Sao joined the ‘thigh rubbing’ action. I didn't exactly knew what to do so I ended up letting them "harassing" me. I was scared that the taxi driver was homophobic and not okay seeing whatever we r doin. but the taxi driver, who looked like a fat version of Shakhruh Khan didn't seem to mind at all.

"Do you know where we are going?" I asked Maung

"I am not sure. But the cab driver knows where to bring us!" Hmm.... Not a kind of answer I wanted to hear.

A silent moment came in.

....

....

"Do you wanna meet my parents?" Maung broke the silence with a ridiculous question.

"You're joking, rite?"

"Why am I joking?" Maung seemed to be offended.

"Why do I want to meet your parents?" I laughed.

"So you don't wanna meet my parents? Why?"

I was totally lost with his question. I thot he was joking, but it seemed that he was serious as hell.

"Well, we don't have time to meet your parents." I reasoned with Maung.

"We can meet my parents tomorrow."

"Err.... You are not asking me to marry you, are you?"

"Haha.. No... But I'm sure my parents will be happy to meet a nice foreigner like you!"

"You don't know if I am a nice person."

"I know you are."

.....

Long story short, we finally arrived at the hotel that looked more like a "dungeon" from the outside. I wouldn't be surprised if Hannibal Lector was inside. By the time we parked in the hotel's parking lot, Maung told me a bizarre thing to do. He wanted me to shut my mouth and not to speak any English. I could understand that as he might want to avoid us being overcharged. English means tourist and tourist means more dollars! But more bizarre order came out: I need to pretend to be super drunk and let the driver carried me to the room. Whaaa? I did not have much time to argue. The taxi driver opened my door and started lifting me up. I did not exactly know what to do. I've never really gotten drunk so I did not know how to act drunk (ugh, I know some of you wouldn't believe this). All i did was just closing my eyes til I got thrown to a super hard mattress. Once I opened my eyes, I found myself in a dingy-looking square room with no window whatsoever. The bathroom was widely open. And I can tell that the bathroom is even more dingy looking. Maung and Sao were also laying on the bed and pretended to be drunk (but their acting was much worse than mine). I heard the taxi driver talking with a guy whom I assumed to be the hotel worker. Once they left the room, I ended my failed drunk acting and observed the room one more time. And that's when I saw the most fascinating thing I'd ever seen in a hotel room. It's no other than a TV with a porn video played in it. It's a straight porn, unfortunately. But seeing the TV made me realize that the hotel room is not just a normal hotel room: it's a sex hotel's room. I immediately became scared to death that the bed might be as dirty as cum pit. and seeing (and hearing) women moaning from the TV made it my nerve grew even worse. I never thot in million years that I'd be trap with a straight porn in a dark room.

I turned to Maung and gave him what-should-we-do-next face! To my delight, Maung did not look confused. "wait here! I'll be back!" Maung left the room without giving me any chance to say something. I turned to the "silent" Sao and he gave me a smile. An evil smile. His hand started grabbing my thigh and all I could do was just staring at his hands and got frozen. Soon enough, Maung came back in with three big bottles of Burmese beer. i was glad that Sao's hand would be distracted to the beers by then. Maung handed one of the bottles to me and soon enough we all were finishing our beer. The "more bizarre news", however, came up.

"We are waiting for prostitutes to come in!" Maung told us.

"Whaaaaaaa?" I spitted out my drink. "are you kidding me?! Whom are they for?"

"Relax. You don't need to have them. My brother will have them!" and by brother, and I assume its Sao.

I was really confused. So after all sexual harassments he did to me, the "silent" Sao is into vajaijai. Shocking!!!

I didn't have enough time to solve the "conundrum". A more important thought rushed in to my head.

"Are they gonna do it here?" I shouted.

"Yeah!" Maung nodded.

"Oh crap! I don't wanna be here when they are doing it!" I shouted even louder.

"Err... Okay!"

Long before I knew it, an old lady came in bringing two women. I assumed the old lady to be the pimp and the two women were her "slaves". I could barely look their faces. I feel ashamed and disgusted to be a part of this "slavery". I let the pimp and Maung and Sao talk for a while. As soon as I found the "silent gap", I turned to Maung and told him to get out of the room with me. The idea of seeing these women taking off her clothes really frightened me. I couldn't wait to get out. Maung seemed to grasp my "freaking out" moment. Two of us finally got out of the room and I supposed the pimp followed us late on. We walked pass the hotel's lobby and I saw three Burmese man comforly watching TV. I assumed they were the hotel's workers.

Two of us got out of the hotel and found ourselves in the hotel's frontyard, or the parking lot, to be exact. The only source of light came from the lightbulb from the lobby's entrance and the moon light. I saw no surrounding building. I was literally stranded in god knew where. Kudos for the hotel owner who built the hotel in this google-map-couldn't-find-it location. I had no idea how long I needed to wait. My slutty/adventurous mood was obviously evaporated. I wished I could just go back to Cindy and Sandy. It was 1 AM and I knew finding taxi wouldn't be possible. I joked to Maung if I could go back to my hotel. Maung calmly told me that I needed to wait til sunrise to get a taxi home. We sat on the short plastic seats and started making a conversation to kill the time. Maung then started sharing his life under the junta. He told me that his dad used to be a wealthy man as a government's worker.  Maung and his family used to live a prosperous life. But when the junta cut his dad off from his job without any clear reasons, his family began to financially suffer. In his early fifty, his dad failed to find a new job. Maung missed the  university's payment several times and decided to take a break from the uni and found a job to get him some money to get back to uni. Maung then worked in a hotel as a receptionist and that's how he got to learn several foreign languages. Working in a hotel exposed him to an environment where talking in multi languages is such a pride. I began to share my sympathy to him when he mention that working long shift in the hotel still did not grant him enough money to make him come back to the uni.

I then asked him about life as a gay man in Burmese culture. He said that as many gay men still lived with their parents eventho they were in their late 20, life as gay men was full of covert and hiding. He also mentioned that eventho Yangon did not have any gay clubs, gay corner could be found in most of the clubs found in the city. Maung also told me than many gay men did not want to fully admit their gay identity and still engage in sex with a woman. He then mentioned Sao as an example.  Sao like dick, but he would only let himself indulge in dick fantasy after he fucked a girl.

"and that's why Sao would like to have sex with you too later on" Maung concluded his statement.

"HELL NO!" I was stunned with what I just heard "Sao won't be anywhere near my dick!" It was really disgusting to think that a penis who just got inside vagina of a prostitute to be around me.

"Haha okay, I was joking!" He better be!!!

The air got colder and windy. The mosquitoes started to invade us. And I felt sleepy. I then asked Maung to check if whatever going on in our room had stopped. Being freezing and surrounded by mosquitoes suddenly felt to be more terrifying than goin inside a room where vagina-penetrating action (ewww!!!) was happening. Maung then went back inside. After 15 minutes, however, Maung hadn't come back yet. I was worried that Maung joined the "pact" and left me all alone. I stared at the moon on the sky and I felt the moon was laughing at me as if it was saying "See! This is what you got when you foolishly decide to go with random stranger in Yangon!"

"Oh, screw you, moon! You are just jealous cuz you are still virgin up until now!"

Before I came up with my second attack for the moon, Maung came out and his face did not look happy at all.

"Bad news! The bitches did not want to get fucked by Sao!"

"HUH?????"

"They want us to fuck them!"

"HUH??????"

"They want to get fucked by the two of us"

I still didn’t believe with what I just heard. "WTF!!! Since when the prostitute can choose whom they want to fuck???"

At that point, I really lost my cool. Everything just didn't seem to make any sense.

"what the fuck have they been doing in the room then?!!" I shouted to Maung

"I have no idea either".

"Oh god! Can you just get rid of them now! It's freaking cold here and I am sleepy as hell! I. WANT. TO. GO. INSIDE. NOW!"

Maung went back inside. I tried to rationalize everything, but all I could think was that Maung had been telling me lies. None of these made any senses. I somehow thot that the girls were supplement from the hotel. Whoever rent the hotel's room should get the girl from them. Another scenario that I could think of was that renting the girls was sorta a manipulation to covert the fact that we are gays. But I still did not get the "the girls wanted the two of us" part. The most annoying part was the fact that I was the one who paid everything. The room, the cab, the beers and even the prostitute’s fee. I obviously feel ashamed of myself to be leeched like that.  I did not even get the adventure I was thinking of.  If this were a reality show, the appropriate title must had been "The Biggest Loser". Soon enough, Maung went back and told me that the girls were gone and I could go back inside. So I hurried to get inside. The room was semi dark. The only source of light came from the well-lit bathroom. I saw Sao sleeping cozily on the bed. How could he sleep already??? Did he or did he not sleep with the girls?? I could've turned to Maung and force him to honestly explain everything start from the scratch, but I was too tired to argue. So I stared on the bed, instead. I was hesitant to lay on the bed, but I braved my self out. I had no choice. The moment I laid my body down, I immediately thot of long, hot shower in the morning to cleanse whatever dirty thing that comes to my body from the bed. Maung laid down on the bed too. He positioned himself to be between me and Sao. Maung's face faced mine. None of us closed our eyes. We stared each other with a long silent creaping out the room. And then I told my self "after all of the "drama", I should at least put 'Burmese' in my local-cuisine-I've-enjoyed list!" So... well, you know what happened next....

*the end*

[harderbettersluttier]

Sleeping with Curries Again! (2012)

A year after my failed attempt to sleep with the curries, I went back to India. After visiting few rural cities recommended by Lonely Planet, I decided to go to Mumbai, the Bollywood’s Mecca! Though not every Mumbai men looked like Salman Khan, after few times scanning the Mumbai hunks in grindr, jackd and romeo, I came to conclusion that Mumbai guys were much better than men in Delhi and Kolkata (soon enough, I learnt that Mumbai gays thot Kolkatans were the India’s ugliest urban gays - I couldn’t agree more). My main intention in Mumbai was to celebrate Holi festival, the Hindu ritual where people throwing colored powder and splashing water, and tour the nightlife scenes. On the mission doing the latter, I met this cute 20-something straight guy whom I ended up chatting with. His name was Ragoo and he danced funny (just like most of straight guys out there). His smile was one of the cutest thing I’d ever seen. If I were him, I would had definitely put my smile into insurance.

Over pizza, we had a nice conversation in knowing each other (which I found unnecessary given how we might never meet other again). As soon as we finished the pizza, we found ourselves taking off each other’s clothes in his place (which was like a block away from the pizza parlor). I was so worried that I would cum too soon by the time I pitched my disco stick in given how just staring at his naked body already made me so close to release the fountain. Turned out my fear didn’t come true. But the bad news was, it was not because I could hold it long, but because HE COULDN’T HOLD IT long. He broke his fountain a minute after the train went in to the tunnel. I was both amazed and sad. Amazed that my train could be that powerful. Sad that I didn’t expect the show to be ended soon. Rajiv then confessed that he never had a train in his tunnel that as long as mine. This actually didn’t surprise me. Like I might have told you before, Indian penises in average are the smallest dick God has ever created in comparison with other races’. And it seemed that Rajiv had always been fellow Indian until he finally met me.

Luckily, we were hungry again after few minutes and we decided to throw another round. This time, Rajiv proposed the most narcissistic ‘strategy’ I’ve ever heard. He wanted me to F-train him in front of a mirror so that he could stare at himself. In normal world, I would’ve felt disgusted by a blatant narcissism. But since you couldn’t expect anything normal in India, I instantly agreed. In fact, It was actually not a bad idea. When you doggy-backdoor somebody, you’d hardly see the other person’s face. With this narcissistic move, however, I could clearly see Rajiv’s expression enjoying my train and I found it really hot. It’s like looking at someone’s happy face when you give him/her a surprise gift except this time the gift is sent thru a backdoor!

[harderbettersluttier]

Flags Collecting (noun): an attempt of collecting dates of different nationalities

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Who needs Grindr when UNIQLO serves them too!

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*scrolling down the contact list on the phone*

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So sticky that “it got stuck inside"

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because staring is a criminal offense

[harderbettersluttier]

9 Sweetest Things Guys Have Ever Done on This Planet

Men can be so sweet (sweet enough to melt your heart) when....

(not necessarily in the ascending order)

#1 When someone, who was actually not good at baking, made 7 helluva baking attempts until he finally thot the cake was good enough to be given to you as your surprise bday cake. then you thanked him by giving the hottest sex he’d ever had.

#2 When a guy, who just recently came out and escaped from a 1-year engagement plan with his ex-gf, flew you to go on a first date with him in the town he lived. And no,  you were not a hooker nor he was some sorta a human trafficker! He was just desperate that no gay boy in his hometown lived up to his standard. You'd never been there before and he gave you a nice tour of the city. so you thanked him by giving him the first rim job he’d ever gotten on the last night.

#3 When someone, who lived abroad, secretly flew to a city where you lived just to throw a surprise bday party in which he managed to gather all of your friends without you getting suspicious whatsoever. It was the first surprise bday party someone had ever done to you.

#4 When a man, or precisely the guy mentioned in this post, sent you a bday gift all the way from his country (which was like 15hours flight away from the city you lived). You and him accidentally met over a holiday trip in the country where the mutual friend lived. You always thot he was just a guy from an episode of travel romance you had, in which pursuing him seriously will do more harm than good, given the fact that you two lived in two different continents. After not talking to each other for months, you were surprised to find a gift box from him on your mailbox. Among stuffs found inside the gift, there was a tiny piggy bank with a sign of the flag of the country he lived at. Along with the piggy bank, there was a letter saying “this piggy bank should remind you that you need to start saving your money to fly here. Just to fly. Everything else will be covered by me!”

#5 When someone invited you for a fine dining date and before the dish came, he gave you a greeting card saying:

“Question given to Kindegarten Kids.

Q: How do you know when a boy likes you?

A: When he gives you all of his red M&Ms.”

And along with the card, the envelope also contained a ziploc plastic filled by lots of red M&Ms.

#6 When someone, who brought you home after the date, run immediately to catch the cab where you just left your cellphone at as soon as you told him.

#7 When someone, who came to your place to have a nice romantic DVD-watching date, voluntarily did your laundry because he knew you were too tired to do it (and that you were running out of clothing stocks).

#8 When someone, who was about to go home after the date you two spent in your place for the entire evening, lifted and carried you, who fell asleep already, from the bed to the exit door because he was so worried that you would forget to lock the door if he didn’t do that.

 #9 When someone you were dating said he was too busy with his work and couldn't pick you up in the airport surprisingly showed up when you just reached the machine where you were supposed to buy the ticket for the airport-to-city train. He then told you that you two would directly head to the hotel to drop you there as he needed to go back to his work soon, but in the middle of the cab ride, you headed to the restaurant you'd always wanted to visit (but never had a chance). He gave you another surprise by reserving the table in that restaurant for a dinner date.

More signs coming up!

[harderbettersluttier]

5 Celebrity Names that My Gaydar Outed Long before They Came Out

Is gaydar really a thing? If it is, how do we install it? Is it only available for gay men? Do we need to update it once in a while? Can it be broken? How to ensure the installed Gaydar is the most updated one? Ugh... Stop asking. I am pretty much as clueless as you are. But one thing I know for sure was that when I was still exploring my gayhood, I would only mindfuck a celebrity whom I think was secretly gay. That's just how I trained myself not to be a predatory gay guy who likes to eat alive a straight dude. Anyhow, so I gathered these (sexy and questionable) men in a certain part of my brain so-called the storage of 18+ materials (eventho at that time I was not 18 yet). So when my dirty mind needed to be feed, I recalled one guy or two from that storage to comprehend my lusty fantasy. The funny part was that, as the time went by, their fame faded away and many of them turned out to come clean as gay. Well, there are guys who up until now haven't come out yet or really is straight. But my "gaydar" was not entirely wrong as the straight men who've ever joined my "rated-M coalition" had at least played a role of gay character once in their lifetime. 

Without a further ado, I introduce you to the guys who've ever joined "my lusty fantasy league".

#Ricky Martin

When I first heard Ricky Martin's "Livin La Vida Loca" anthem, I barely knew  what butt sex was. But deep down inside my head, I knew for a reason that that telenovela-looking man masturbated to a picture of a naked guy when he's off camera. 21 Years later, Ricky came out and I finally found out that I  was never wrong for daydreaming about him for the entire of my childhood. One thing I really loved about his coming out was that the homophobic football fans came to realization that during '98 World Cup they danced to an anthem sang by a GAY guy. 

#Someone in Westlife

Westlife was the 90s' One Direction. I remember I was in 6th grade when my girl classmates couldn't stop talking/doodling/scribbling/daydreaming  about the boys of the band. Soon enough, the tallest band member, Mark Feehily joined a coalition of guys I thot of every time I wanked. I invented variant sex scenarios between Mark and the guys in the coalition (sometimes I also use another band member), but the hottest scenario I could think of was the scenario where the two having sex in the limousine on their way to the concert (I had no idea how I came up with that plot). Fife years later, I found out from a local newspaper that Mark finally came out and was dating a member of another boyband whom he met from a joint concert of the two boybands. Sixth sense is really such a thing.

#The hottest guy in Blue (another boyband)

Okay, all the guys in Blue are all hot, but my eyes would always target Duncan James first every time the quartet appeared on the TV screen. There's something magical about this Duncan guy. He made me go oooohlala every time I saw his picture. That's why I knew for sure that adding him to the list of men you-should-sexually-fantasize-about was the wisest choice a gay virgin teenage boy had ever made. Blue gained their popularity when the fame of Westlife vanished. But their reign didn't last long either. Not long after the band got disbanded, Duncan revealed that he was a bi and used to be in an intimate relationship with a guy when Blue took off with their freshman album. Duncan might now be married to a woman, but I'm sure as hell, few nights a week, it's his wife's turn to slip the cock in. Thanks to the invention of dildo!

#Ian Somerhalder

First time I saw Somerhalder was in Lost's first season. The moment I saw his staring blue eyes, I just could tell that it's the kind of eyes God only gave to gay men (as a side note, God also creates fancy-looking nipples limited to gay men only). Somerhalder's character in Lost, Boone Carlyle, didn't last long as the character ended up dying because of gonorrhea feet amputation he had to have in that creepy jungle. But his impression as a "sexy gay-able" man lasted much longer in my imagination. Soon enough, I found out that before he joined Lost, he played a super feminine character who had a crush to a character played by James van der Beek in a not-so-famous movie called The Rules of Attraction. Up until now, I still think Somerhalder is a member of the pink team. He is just still 'lost'.

#Zachari Quinto

HEROES’ first season was the only TV show I watched in marathon in the history of my televisionized life. The storyline was really captivating, but what’s more captivating was the mysterious/dark antagonist character of Sylar. The character was played by Zachari Quinto. He barely had any topless moment in the show but my gaydar gave a strong signal everytime I see his ass act. His sexy deep voice made it feel like whatever the line he uttered, Sylar kept saying “I.. am.. gay… yes…I…am.. into…men. Wanna sleep with me?” When HEROES got axed and left Quinto in a less busy schedule (except when he slept acted with Chris Pine in Star Trek the movie), the sexy hairy man decided to come out. Kaching! Another win for my gaydar!

More celebrity names coming up!

[harderbettersluttier]

3 Signs You’ve been Jerked by a Jerk!

#1

You found a super hot guy on Jack’d whom you think out of your league. Surprisingly, he sent you a message first. You two got along by exchanging messages and he constantly praised you. One night, he finally came over to your place on an occasion you normally refer to a “quicky”. He let you drill him like crazy. An hour later you two finished the round. Headed to bathroom and cleaned up. You gave him a towel to dry him up. Soon enough, he crawled back to your bed, told you that he was tired as hell and then self-voluntarily slept on your bed without asking if he could sleepover whatsoever. Even though you actually had plan to meet up with your friends later that night, you decided to put up with him ‘cuz you are a nice person. The night was still to young for you but you forced yourself to sleep next to him. You tried to snuggle with him but he refused. The next morning, the thot of having “morning service” immediately vanished as you woke up to his cellphone alarm (which was much earlier than your normal morning alarm time). He excused himself as he needed to go to his work soon. Days after that, you neither got his message or he replied to your messages. Jerrrk!!!!!!

#2

You had a first date with this cute guy. You two started the date by having lunch together. Time flew so fast next thing you knew it’s been almost five hours since the first second you met him that day and you two were heading for an early dinner already. You really felt the chemistry was there since you hardly saw any silent gap within the conversation you two had been having. You started to feel tired of talking and thot it was the best time to end the date. And luckily he did think the same as well. He politely said goodbye and few minutes after he disappeared you got a text from him saying “it was really nice to talk to you, cutie!” You couldn’t help having the high hope and thot things would work out well between you two. The day after, there was a new exhibition opening in the museum in town you’re dying to go to. The friend you’re supposed to go with had to bail out due to a “girl issue”. So you started thinking to ask the cute guy come to the opening with you instead. Then he replied your text invitation by saying “err.. I think you need to be more patient”. You got bewildered and asked him to detail what he actually meant. And he said “I think you are too young for me”. You then reminded him that you were just one year younger than him. No answer. The day after, you tried to reach him back and he got back at you by saying “Hey. I think I’m seeing another guy and it’d be best if we stop seeing each other!” Whaaaaaa? Jeeerrrk!

#3

It’s been a year since you broke up with your ex but you two still kept in touch with him though the distance separated you two away (and we’re talking about two hours international flight away distance). Over email exchanges, your ex kept emphasizing that eventho you two were no longer an item, he hoped that the friendship would never end. Fast forward to few days before his bday, you couldn’t help reminiscing how gifting and sending each other greeting card (even for small details like 37th week anniversary) was a huge part of the relationship you two used to have. So, in the spirit of his let’s-keep-the-friendship chanting, you decided to make him a website that would reveal a bday e-card for him after he completed a where’s-wally-inspired task (and by Wally, you meant you photoshopped the Wally to be like him). Not only that, the bday e-card you made was not just a free e-card you got online. You made it yourself. You creatively used an art exhibition you found in your favorite art gallery to somehow say the wording of the e-card you made for your ex. Again, not only that, you also sent him a bday gift. And the gift was not just a thing you could purchase over the counter. You creatively made a tshirt with the printing illustration that showcased his bucket lists (the bucket list you were well-aware of from the relationship you had with him). Long story short, your ex got bedazzled with the website and the gift you made. He was amazed and thanked you. Two months afterwards, it was your time to have your bday. But neither of your inboxes received any greeting bday email from him. A week after that, there was still no sign of him remembering your bday, let alone bday gift! Jeerrkkk!!!! Raise your hand if you agree that he should be burnt in hell!!!

[harderbettersluttier]

7 Reasons to Sleep with the Locals while Traveling Abroad

To get a firsthand knowledge.

On my very last night in Myanmar, when I was walking back to my hotel after a dinner somewhere downtown, a Burmese guy approached me and complimented my outfit. Next thing I knew, I was heading to a different hotel with the Burmese guy. Fast forward to the early morning of the next day, I did my walk of shame with my head filled with real insights about how Burmese live the life under junta’s undemocratic ruling – something that I learn subsequent to the "sleeping" part.

To avoid backpacker hostel.

If I travel on budget, shady backpacker hostel can easily be my pit stop. But at some point within a long travel itinerary, I just wanna sleep in a place I can call ‘home’. Thanks to the technology invention called hook-up application (like Grindr or Manhunt), now I can set up a date with some locals even before I reach their town. So I set up a date, put my baggage in train station’s locker room and seduce the guy I’m having a date with until he brings me to a place they call home.

To get a better story to share.

What would be your friends wanna hear after you come back from Paris: the story about you visiting L’ouvre or the tale where you met a French guy in a bar then the two of you huddled behind the bushes in Eiffel park?

To bring home a more unique souvenir.

While having protected sex will make your mom proud, why don’t you stock more local condoms (with the foreign language written on its package) in your purse or wallet. So when you still have extra, you can bring them home as the memento for your friends. Who needs key chain or fridge magnet these days anyway?

To reveal the truth behind the myths.

Is it true that French are good at french kissing? Do Indian really master the techniques of kamasutra? Do arabic men carry a longer 'gun' than black men do? Do Asian men really have the smallest weewee on earth? Well, sleeping with the locals may give you a more accurate answer than hearing from what people say.

To collect a more memorable “visa stamps”.

So next time your friend asks you how many country you have been to, you can answer the question with more pride and stronger bragging rights by saying well, I've slept with *fill your number here* different nationalities.

To have a free tour guide.

If you are sticky enough (read: so adorable) to be with, your guy might be more than happy to accompany you wandering the town. Not only he knows the best place to go, you also see the places from a local’s perspective. 

[harderbettersluttier]

Bangkok: It's All Started in the Backseat of the Car

When was the last time I had a date with someone I met not thru online dating site? NEVER. Isn’t it sad that I always heavily rely on dating site like planetromeo, grindr* or manhunt to meet a cute guy? I met my ex (with whom I shared a fabulous romantic relationship for almost a year) thru planetromeo and I always told (read: lied to) people that we met thru mutual friends. To me, it sort of embarrassing to tell people that the first time you met the guy you’re dating with is from the screen of your laptop (or cellphone).

Well, to be fair, as you may guys know, I only like white guys (so call me potato queen) and meeting a cute white gay guy (in Indonesia, particularly) is like finding a needle in haystack (and not to mention most of Jakarta’s white queer are old, bold, fat or all of those three). So finding white gay guys in Jakarta thru online dating site is actually still forgivable, I suppose. But then, since I now live in Bangkok, which is undoubtedly the central of the gay universe in Asia, I can no longer use the same reason why I still rely on dating site like how I used to in Jakarta. White gay guys here in Bangkok are abundant. In the skytrain I take when I go home, or at the alley of grocery store I go shop at, or at the library I normally hang out at, or at the public park where the moms (or DILF) walk the toddlers (and the dogs) at, there’s always one “potato” I’d like to “eat”. But guess what, I still always meet my date (or fling or f***buddy or whatever you call it) from a dating site. What a shame! Everytime I go to a gay club here in Bangkok, I never really dare to make an eye contact with a stranger, let alone having a conversation with a fellow club patron. I might be witty in the online chat conversation, but in real life, I’m just a timid loser. I don’t dare to a make a first move. I just think when I’m fully-clothed (and that means these gay guys are not able to see my 6pack abs), they do not give me a second look (which is shame on them). Anyway, so I promise myself that if I happen to have a relationship with a new guy, it has to be something that is started accidentally, not intentional encounter like what dating site basically offers. Everyone wants to have their own romantic-comedy Hollywood storyline in their life. So do I. You know, like falling to someone whom you meet in bookstore because you and he accidentally pick on the same book from the bookshelf, or to a guy who run after you to deliver a book (or a pen or a handkerchief) that you fortuitously drop on the street, or to a barista who leaves his number on your coffee cup. Sigh. Those romantic-comedies are poisoning our minds!

So anyway, few weeks ago, I stop doodling on my dating site accounts. I decided not to open my grindr, manhunt and romeo anymore and go on without dating site whatsoever. I guess I’ve been quite slutty ever since I came to Bangkok (or should I say “Bang Cock”) so I decided to take a break. In case you really care about the number of guys I’ve dated here in Bangkok, I’m sorry to tell you that I lost counting. But I can brief you the memorable ones, such as the random British guy who helped me moving in to my new flat the first day I landed in Bangkok, the French guy who speaks with British Accent, another French guy with two PhD degrees, the not-sexy Thai guy whom I slept with just because I got to have a threesome with a hot British guy, the exotic mixed Singaporean/Italian guy who stood me up in the club for the whole night on our 6th date (and since then I stopped meeting him), an obnoxious American who made me feel like I’m dating a reality tv star, a Russian fitness-instructor who acts like total queen (and got mad at me because I banged him too deep), a Danish who taught me how to play badminton, a German who cheated on his boyfriend, and… ah, I guess I should stop by now. Anyway, my point is: I stop using dating site and it seems that God sent me a reward for that. The reward is no other than a small-scale of Hollywood romance storyline that I got to enjoy for seven days. Why seven days? Well then, lemme begin the story.

One Sunday afternoon, I was with Tyler in Hua Hin (Who’s Tyler? Tyler is an Irish guy who has a big heart, but with a small dick, whom I thot I would be boyfriend with, but then as soon as I realized I could find someone’s much hotter than him in Bangkok, I decided to be just his friend). Hua Hin, which is just three-hour ride away from Bangkok, is like a little Bali for Bangkokian (term for those who live in Bangkok). And as I didn’t have free Monday, I needed to go back to Bangkok that Sunday, and luckily, Jacqy (a hot mixed Swiss/Thai lady whom I become bestfriend with) was in Hua Hin too and she offered me a lift to Bangkok with her car as she’s heading to Bangkok as well that Sunday. So I left the geeky Tyler and jumped in to Jacqy’s car. And apparently, Jacqy was not alone. She was accompanied by her two Swiss friends who were visiting her in Thailand and they’re just about to end their weekend holiday in Hua Hin and ready to enjoy Bangkok as soon as we arrived there. Her two friends, Dale and Ves, were gays and once I shaked my hands with theirs, I definitely think Ves were extremely hot. Ves was a 26y.o. tall man with scruffy face and a swimmer body (with wide chest and impeccable shoulders) and was equipped with a sexy tanned skin. And this hot hunk sat in the backseat WITH ME. However, as usual, when I know that I am in a close perimeter of a hot guy, I become (extremely) nervous and get insecure. But I think I handled the road trip quite well (and by well, I mean: not talking much with Ves cuz I’m too nervous to see his face but had a good laugh and chat with Jacqy and Dale who sat on the front seat). Nonetheless, the great thing about that road trip was that we had many detours. We stopped at a nice restaurant for launch, then at Pechaburi to hike the mountain temple, then at Amphawa to enjoy an evening at the famous floating market. And the good thing about having detours was that I feel less and less insecure when I talk to Ves (who spoke with Swiss/German-accent English). It was such a nice perfect Sunday for a little insecure guy like me. By the end of the trip, I got to know that Ves was actually born in a muslim Macedonian family in a small town in Macedonia and had been living in Switzerland since he was five. (The moment I found that he’s a muslim too, I immediately thot of introducing him to my mom. Lol). Oh one more thing, he also managed to ask my facebook and added me rightaway on his facebook with his iPhone on the road (and I considered that as a great sign!) And because Jacqy wanted Dale and Ves to immediately experience Bangkok, we decided to hit the Bangkok’s famous gay district once we got home and got dressed. So yeah, our Sunday road trip continued to become a party night (and I kept my hope up to actually “get to know Ves” MORE)!

Fast forward, we were already inside the club, all of us were looking pretty and enjoying the thumpa-thumpa music, but my heart was pounding hard because it’s about time to find out if Ves liked me the way I liked him. Three hours and 5 cocktails later, there’s still no sign of Ves wanting me. Well, he held my waist while we were dancing for like ten seconds at max for a few times but I didn’t think that counted as it was just a friend-ish dancing move. I got frustrated when I realized many other guys in the club stared at him the way hungry tiger stared at lonely rabbit. One more cocktail later, I decided to give up on him. Asian petite boys might not be his cup of tea, I supposed. The alcohol began to affect me (I would say I’d never been that drunk in the entire of my life), but Dale kept buying me more Malibu pineapple. And that’s when Ves tried to do something about it. He was like “wow, you’re already drunk! Stop drinking.” And I was like “No, I’m not.” And everyone knew it was a lie. So Ves started to “steal” my drink by forcing his mouth to get to my cocktail’s straw. And he managed to ‘steal’ 70% of my drink. Seeing him like this made me come up with a brilliant strategy. If this was what it took to really get his attention, then I would keep trying to drink. So I ordered a new cocktail and, once again, Ves got concerned about me. And again, he tried to “save me” by stealing my drink. It was kinda intense, I would say. It’s like two six-years-old boys fighting over a sip of chocolate milk. This time he managed to drink the half of my glass. And once I finished that, I went back to the bar and get another cocktail. And again, the similar scenario happened. By the time my third “attention-seeker” drink was finished, Ves became drunk more than I was. And next thing I knew, we were hugging each other and he kissed me (so I kissed him back). He said something flirtatious (that would be too ‘sensual’ to be written here). But the point is, for the next five minutes, we were grinding each other like two teenagers hitting puberty, making out for the first time. Then my bladder started acting up so I took a break from the grinding session to get to the restroom. And guess what, once I saw him back on the dancefloor, he was kissing ANOTHER guy already. BITCH!!! So I decided to stepped in and punch Ves in the face. Yeah rite, I wish! No, I didn’t punch nobody. The guy left Ves once I came close and Ves and I hugged each other again. And, as I could tell, Ves wanted to have threesome with me and that guy. I definitely declined it as I was not into the other guy (as the guy was Asian). And judging from the whole scene (and since I become a little bit more sober than I was before Ves kissed me), I got a clear conscience that Ves might want me because he’s drunk, not because he really wanted me. So I told Ves to just go with the other boy and I left him with the other boy while I headed to Jacq and Dale who were dancing at the other side of the dancefloor.  Fast forward, Jacq, Dale and I were leaving the club the moment the club showed the sign of closing. Did I still get pissed over Ves picking somebody else? Definitely! I was that close to get Ves into my pants but then I ought to let him go with some other boy. Still sulking, I walked out from the club with Jacq and Dale. But then I heard Ves calling us. He run after me. With his drunk face, Ves approached me and said “I’m sorry but I only want to come home with you tonite” and then he kissed me. Kaching!!!

***

Seven nights later, Ves and I were still inseparable. And that’s quite a huge shock. That night, when we had our first ‘intimate’ night, I told myself that it should be just an alcohol-induced one night stand and I should not get attached to him. I also told myself that since this is a (only one week) Bangkok holiday for Ves, he needed to have fun with more than just one boy, not just me, so I should let him go and taste Bangkok boys. But I didn’t know what exactly happened between us, but if we get separated during the day, we kept meeting up again at the evening. Ves and Dale booked a fancy top-notch residence in Bangkok (damn Swiss, why are you guys so wealthy!) but Ves never really slept there, he always ended up spending the night at my place. Even when the stormrain took over Bangkok, he still fought to find his way to my apartment. On our sixth night, I told him to go to a club with Dale and without me and start meeting with other Bangkok boys. And I really meant it. I like him and I wanted him to have crazy fun during his holiday (because when I’m single and having holiday, I definitely want to be wild! Some of you may still remember my crazy sexy Cologne holiday and that’s what Ves should be doing in Bangkok! C’mon, it’s Bangkok: the sluttiest capital town in Asia!) But Ves told me that he wanted no other guy. He just wanted a tiny, short Asian whom he met on the backseat of Jacqy’s car!

Too good to be true, huh? Well, sadly it did not last long. He obviously needed to come back to Switzerland and both of us should get reality check that last-longing romantic relationship didn’t come that easy. I always remember when my lady friends tell me that good guys are either taken or gay. Well, for gay guys like me, good guys are either taken or just a visitor who passes by the town you live at (and thus, won’t stay together with you). Now that Ves is gone, all I could think is just the good time we had (and all the bills he paid for both of us, lol) during his whole Bangkok holiday time. Starting from the moment when he became protective of me by preventing from getting drunk, wait…. you know what, it didn’t actually start from there. Ves and I opened up to each other at some point and he confessed that he immediately liked me when he saw me getting inside the car that Sunday afternoon, and according to him, he made an effort to really have a conversation with me, but he thot I was not that into him cuz I didn’t talk much to him back (while the truth was that I was just shy to talk back to him). Life really works in funny way, doesn’t it!? I would definitely not forget times when we stole kiss in public. Well, Ves, with his European lifestyle, thot that he could kiss me wherever and whenever he wanted, while, me, with my conservative Indonesian lifestyle, thot that If I kiss somebody in public, I would’ve ended up getting bashed by people who see me kissing. So the kiss-stealing moment never really worked well (cuz I got shy in the middle of the process). But the point is, we stole kiss many times, and the best kiss-stealing moment goes to when we were having dinner at a nice restaurant at a riverside of Chao Phraya river (with view of Bangkok skyscraper across the river behind us). The restaurant had acoustic performers playing songs to entertain the customers and when the singer sand Sixpence None The Richer’s “Kiss Me”, Ves kissed me in front of other customers. I couldn’t help blushing. And that was just insanely romantic. Anyway, I could go on and on to tell other romantic (and sensual) moments between the two of us in a skybar, malls, bed, temples, museums, restaurants, cabs or skytrain, during rainy or sunny day, in the morning, noon, evening or midnite. But I’m afraid you guys are bored by now (heck, I’m not even sure you read until this part). So I let guys off the hook now and get back to your work! Close your facebook and let’s hope tomorrow will be a better day for all of us!

[harderbettersluttier]

Triund, India: A queer traveler (whom I made friend along the trip) and I camped there for a  night. The view was really splendid and I told myself it was a nice backdrop for my confession video. So there it was, the place where I taped my ‘coming out’ video (for my mom) for the first time ever.