Never Hurt Anyone.

Sorry for the down time on the blog, and the fact that the pictures are still not showing up. What a pain in the ass. I can hardly believe it’s been over a full year since I started blogging (the web-space subscription lasts a year), and now all my pictures are lost. But no matter, it’s high time I revamped this thing and did more fun things with it. Especially the guide around Singapore, and some more self-important advice on how to pick people up for your own purposes.

One of the reasons why the blog shat up was because I sent M an entry that was meant for someone else, so I got freaked. Then I decided that I really couldn’t care very much about him anymore, and if he told me to fuck off, so be it. I feel suckered, and when that happens the cause of that shitty feeling is never really someone you’d like to meet for awhile anyway because they remind you how stupid you can be sometimes. The other reason’s because someone has been shitting and minding my life instead of theirs and has called up my parents to tell them to was in Hong Kong. Well, fuck you who ever you are. Probably some self-important dignitary from one of the schools that grade moral aptitude that I had the ill luck of being forced to attend. I hope you lead a boring life.

Anyway, HK was fun.

The night before my flight, I hung out at one of my favourite drinking places (just across the street from where Greg lives, where I’ve been hiding for a good part of last week) and picked up a couple of guys and a girl. We took it back to one of their places, and I decided that we should all have fun.

We were making out, the two boys and I (the other girl as so drunk she fell asleep on the stairway) and I was thinking all the while (since the day before) what an idiot I’d been with Martine, and decided that I really needed a good whipping. I swear I wasn’t vaguely drunk.

I was being grabbed and rubbed and shoved upon, and my dress had been thrown off me, and there were lips on my lips and lips on my lips (you know what I mean). I pulled away and looked at the both of them and realized that I really wanted to see them naked. The both of them. I stood about two feet away, legs slightly apart, hands on my hips, and demanded that they took off their pants. They did, and I removed the belt off one of them and returned it to him.

‘Whip me’

And I turned around so that my ass faced him, and I held on to the other boy. And I got whipped. It was mad, and it really hurt. After some point, I have no idea how it got to that stage, but I was lifted up and straddled between the both of them and being given a muff job, while being whipped.

It ended about there though, because I got tired and bored (threesomes are like that, especially if you’re not planning on any sex) there’s just not enough intimacy to make it last.

***

I boarded the plane half dead the next day and spent 3 very normal days in HK. Chris was very nice, as usual, and very crazy about me. We’d started planning my trips to the US and South America in June, and the one to Paris in May. We were hanging out last night at a bar and I felt all these people looking at me, and didn’t want to sit too close to him (people judge, duh, and sometimes I cannot help but feel it). Of course he was hurt, and I apologized to him about it after dinner. Oh I Hate having to care about what other people think. Isn’t that awful? I couldn’t believe I did that. I mattered so much to him, and I was bothering about what people in the bar behind us thought about me.

Sometimes I get really freaked at the way he perceives me, and over the way he just is. He’d do nearly anything I want, and he said he’d send me a ticket down to any place in the world I wanted to meet him at. I most certainly cannot understand it; but he’s one of the most incredibly tolerant, uncomplicated guy I’ve had the luck of meeting. He likes me and he’d do anything to make it work, period. And by anything, well… it’s pretty much anything, within good reason, and he knows I’ve got that.

His flight was much earlier then mine today, and I got stuck in the HK air-port for awhile, when I realized I couldn’t bring up my 7 pm flight to 11 am. Which was terrible, because it meant I’d be trapped there for oh, 6 hours before I was even supposed to do anything. I thought I was resigned to reading a good portion of Da Vinci Code (oh yeah, so sue me. I’m so into theology and I haven’t read that? I replaced it with the Name of the Rose, which I am still convinced is better, but I shall finish DVC before making any final judgments).

I surfed the internet for awhile, and there was this annoying boy who could barely speak English trying to chat me up while I was reading my email. He kept on trying to chat me up and sat around the terminal trying to do so until a pilot (not too dashing I’m afraid. His collar was all withered) came by and sat on the seat beside him (I was on the other one) and I thought, hey what have I got to lose by chatting him up and asking him if there was absolutely anything he could do for me. Like get me passes into a lounge or something.

He couldn’t, or didn’t offer to anyway, but asked if I’d like to go back to his boat. So I did, and after awhile on his boat, he invited me to a little football party for pies, chocolate cake and more bloody marys. Chris and Greg were awfully worried (I texted the both of them for advice as to what to do when stuck in an airport miles away from a city I didn't really know well enough to enjoy on my own), but when they finally did call, I was half-drunk and there were about 15 other people in the background cheering and stuffing their faces with meat pies. I'm pretty good at making sure I'm occupied huh.

It never hurt me to chat anyone up really. I was glad I couldn’t get on that earlier flight, I had a blast and got to know a few cool people, and made a new friend. I did leave a lovely new jacket in his boat though, but he said he'd FedEx it to me.

xoxox