Wordgasm is a portmanteau of words and orgasm, “word whoring” to put, an intellectual ejaculation of words and lexicons and sesquipedalians and googlewhacks and such, where cliches are strictly prohibited and stereotypes are burnt at stake. Nihil sub sole novum, the Ecclesiastes say; there is nothing new under the sun. It is only but the words that grant the world a whole new spectrum of perception. And the point is? I have no idea.
Call me Tobey. I’m twentyish, with a gender that involves a vagina. I live in Quezon City. And I go to the University of the Philippines, taking an academic course that requires a large vocabulary and stupendous amounts of imagination. How do you get that? You quaff a gallon of black coffee and gawk at your empty bank account. That would be enough inspiration. More »
 
Operation Find A Boyfriend Project
Monday :: 18 February 2008 :: 16:08

That’s it. I’ve been single four months and I need a sex life.XD Well not really. I are conservative. Teeeeeee.:D But I re-heeeaaaal-ly need a dude right now, however horrible I am as a girlfriend, viz., I get bored easily so I just vanish without a trace whenever I feel like it (which prolly is the most schrecklich sort of experience any dude would ever want).

But I want to change all that, be for the hell of it serious and plunge myself into a longterm ocean of passion, suspense, and drama, just like in the movies.XD I really ain’t bad a girlfriend. In fact, I never get angry, never get jealous, never get possessive, and. Never get horny.XD I am dysfunctional, and I’ll just prolly have an orgasm once in every hundred, not that I’ve reached a hundred, but might try that just to get one, you know? What is an orgasm really? (And I have the temerity to call my blog wordgasm when I haven’t had an orgasm before?? Never. Serious shit. It would prolly take a man like Achilles to get me one.XD But Achilles’s dick has rotten and decomposed and reunited with the baked mother earth, so I’ll just probably take, uh, Mister Bean, as my object of clitoris fixation.XD)

But whhhyyyyyyyyyyy wouldn’t anyone want me??XP I am sweet. Sometimes.XD Actually, err, that counts as one minute for every twenty-four hours of the day. And I’m all laid back and lazy and…XP Urrrrghhhh. Why am I even frickin explaining myself here?? Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. Boyfriend. Come to meeeee!!!!!!!XP Taking that chick from Notting Hill’s words, “Deep inside, I also am a girl.” Hyuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.XP

5:54 AM and I haven’t slept a winkle. I’m just farting time away, waiting for the store in front of my building to open so I can get myself some alcohol and swig myself to torpor.XP

Flatmate and I trudged a thousand miles to get to some Pares Resto in our village (Shit village, I sound like a cavewoman.XD I meant subdivision, understand, subdivision.), which looked like a bar alfresco on one side of the street. I wore my Adidas sweater with the white stripes on the arms when this fat, short dude grabbed a wooden stool and squat himself five steps to my left. We locked eyes, I reading his mind that he is reading my mind that I am reading his mind that we are wearing the same fricking sweater.XP I glare at Flatmate and point my sweater with my mouth and she goes, “What??” “Oh, nothing,” I say. The Super Mami (for only forty-five bucks a bowl the size of palanggana) was manna from heaven; it had mouth-watering pares meat, chicken strips, a hard boiled egg, chinese noodles, then lots of greens, sprinkled with a bottle of pepper that made my eye sockets water bucketfuls of sweat. My gulay, it was deeeeeeeefuckinglicious.XD Every sip of the sabaw I went like Oh my gaaaaad Jesus fucking Christ oh my heaven, then another sip, Oh my gaaaaad Jesus fucking Christ oh my heaven.XD

Ha. The store opened. Woohoooooo alcohol! Red Horse!XD Isang litro! Weeeeeeeeeee.:D

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