We arrive at Ugu Bigyan’s house in Tiaong, Quezon in 3 hours. Along the way, SLEX was slow, and we witnessed a big TV-Patrol-worthy accident in Santo Tomas, Batangas. A big passenger bus ramming onto a house. Just a glimpse and I knew it’s impossible not to have any fatality in that mess. Back to Ugu, we were greeted by his terracotta house, beautiful, classic, and aspirational. If Ugu’s gay (I kinda think he is), then he’s another gay idol in my books. His palace boasts of simple but classic beauty. Every showcase hut in his garden was beautifully styled, every nook and cranny designed with symphony in mind. I love that place. Minus the dragon-sized mosquitoes, it’s perfect.

The food they served was magical. It was very Filipino, and as I ventured to interview the serving waiter, the process of preparing the food was exquisite. Filipino cooking, real Filipino cooking, is love in action. As he was explaining the intricate process of how the appetizer (“Kulawo”) was prepared, I was listening in awe. I can feel nothing but gratitude. It seemed to me that the whole universe conspired to prepare that wonderful meal which I enjoyed so thoroughly.

In the background, the voice of a Filipina soprano floated as she sang kundiman songs. My teeny-bopper companions who loved the food as I did, unfortunately didn’t appreciate the accompanying music a bit. I did. It was super, for me. There you have it, ladies and gentlemen, generation gap in the flesh. I too did not grow up with kundiman, but at my age, I could appreciate it. These teeners do not. I’m not judging, just highlighting a gen gap example.

The way home was long. I arrived in my house with a nagging headache. For a moment I thought the spirits surrounding the fatal accident that we passed caused my headache. But of course that fleeting thought was dismissed in a snap. All I want to remember then was my quality time with Marco, and that beautiful, magical meal at Ugu’s.

Life is good. Cheers, my friends. Let’s be thankful for the many beautiful things in life. Say with me, “World Peace!”

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I have visited this spa in Quezon CIty (at the corner of Timog Ave. and Tomas Morato). They have male therapists (some are good looking!) and thus is frequented by PLUs (People Like Us). The locker and wet area are cruisy, and the clientele is a mix of yuppies and and not-so-yuppies. They offer massage therapies only, no scrubs and things like that.

How about “extra”? Unlike in Sanctuario, the masseurs in this place do not voluntarily offer “extra.” This is true at least with the 2 masseurs I’ve tried. (Atsaka good boy na po ako, hahaha!) The private rooms themselves don’t lend well to such activities — the doors have glass panes so those passing through the hallway can actually see the goings on inside the massage rooms.

Maybe you have some juicier stories to share?

Photos of the place can be seen here.

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Jay told me how a certain Photoshop expert named Paolo stole the original Dave Rebolledo pics from his office’s computer (Paolo worked in Jay’s office for a time), and “adjusted” the photos to show Dave in the buff. He swears how good this Paolo is in Photoshop that he can do that kind of magic.

To prove to me that he was indeed the photographer of the original, un-Photoshopped photos, he sent the following images that came from the same set.

Along with the photos was Jay’s statement:

Attached are the two photos from Dave’s set. They are from the same set as those which had been photoshopped by Paolo ******. I would want to show you the originals which had been the basis of Paolo’s fakes, but these were all lost when the HD which Paolo took without my permission got corrupted from improper handling. These two survived because they were selected and copied for the short list which Dave wanted to use for his setcards and photos.

Considering this, and judging from Dave’s infamous shots, that Paolo must really be a Photoshop Guru of sorts. The photos look so authentic! Jay mentioned somebody saying something like “Paolo has feelings for Dave since their college days,” — but whatever the intent of the supposed propaganda is, it’s, in my opinion, immaterial at the moment. The logic of doing such escapes me, and I’ll just let it be.

Of course, amidst all these hullaballoo, the victim left in the cold is no other than Dave himself. I asked Jay how Dave is taking all these, and he replied, “ayun, depressed. Pinatawag na nga siya ng HR ng company nila to explain.” I feel for the guy.

Dave, if you are reading this, know that regardless whether those nude shots were authentic or not, I, Migs the Manila Gay Guy, symphatizes with you during this very tough time. I’m familiar with such feeling and I can say it’s really the pits. Remember though what that famous folktale says: “this too shall pass.” Let me add, too: Fire is the Test of Gold; Adversity, of Strong Men.

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Photo credits for Joaquin’s set here go to Dense Modesto (first pic) and Ian Felix Alquiros (the rest of the set).

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Jonathan “Athan” Villanueva Collado, fresh from winning the title Man of the Year just a month back, was named Mr. Expo World Philippines 2008 on October 6, 2008, at Metro Bar in Quezon City. He will be representing the country in the Mr. Expo World international pageant in Guatemala City this November.

Carlito (Carl) Rosadino Jr. won the title Face of the Year, while Patrick Joseph Perlas was named Discovery Model of the Year. Rounding up the top five were Neil Bryan Bernardo, first runner-up, and Hiroshi Torobu, second runner-up.

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This article was written by John Lapus. Funny, witty, yet rings true. I so like the ending, so world peace! Taray mo `teh!

Si Carol Dauden, na isang magaling aktres, at si Aiza Seguera, na mahusay na mang-aawit, ay umamin na—sila ay mga tomboy. Mukha naman silang masaya sa kanilang pag-amin. Mas naging malaya sila. Natanggap naman sila ng mga pamilya nila at mga kaibigan. Pero bakit ang mga bakla sa showbiz, isang damukal ang ayaw umamin. Yung iba, tumanda na, at yung iba naman, namatay na pero hindi umamin. Namatay nang nagtatago. Namatay nang hindi malaya. Kawawang bakla.

Sabi ng mga kaibigan kong tomboy, minsan daw, nakaka-get sila ng babaeng makaka-s*x nang hindi nila binabayaran. Para ding mga straight guys na minsan talk show lang at isang bote ng beer, confirmed na! Yung mga baklang mukhang babae at maganda, siguro nakaka-get ng libre, pero prangkahan na, yung iba hindi. Kahit mayaman ang bakla or sikat at powerful, pay pa din. Yung iba, hindi cash. Minsan, career or trabaho. Minsan, damit or rubber shoes. Basta, may kapalit pa rin. May mga kaibigan akong nagmamaganda. Mahal daw sila ng kanilang mga straight boyfriends. I asked them, “Try niyo nga huwag bigyan ‘yan ng allowance or work, tignan ko lang kung boyfriend mo pa ‘yan.” Ayaw naman nila i-try. Kawawang bakla.

Ang dami kong kilalang tomboy na ang girlfriend babaeng totoo ‘tapos tumagal ang relasyon. Sa mga bakla, ang tumatagal lang yung bakla sa baklang relasyon. Kawawang bakla.

Lima na ang kakilala kong baklang pinatay. Yung dalawa, ka-close ko pa. Nagkaroon tuloy ng chismis na baka may gay serial killer. Pero tomboy, walang masyadong pinapatay. Naisip ko, itong mga gay killers, they know na kaya nilang patayin ang mga kawawang bakla na biktima nila. Honestly, minsan naisip ko, kung meron kayang bakla na serial killer naman ng mga lalaki? Bongga, di ba? Pero mga salbahe lang ang pinapatay niya. Kaya lang ‘pag nahuli, kawawang bakla.

Parang boring ang kumalat na picture ng Mocha girls na naghahalikan. Pero kung member ng all-male group ang may kumalat na picture na naglalaplapan, kahit biruan lang din tulad ng sa Mocha, I’m sure-manicure-pedicure-kulot, hanggang next year ay headline ‘yon. Pagchi-chismisan sa beauty parlor, palengke, school, opisina, prisinto, at sa batis habang naglalaba. Kasi recently ko lang nalaman, na ‘pag dalawang babae pala ang naghalikan, natuturn-on ang mga lalaki. Pero ‘pag dalawang lalaki ang naghalikan, hindi naman natuturn-on ang mga babae, worst, nandidiri sila. Biased, di ba? Kawawang bakla.

Pag ang mga lalaki nambabae, sasabihin “macho.” Pero pag namakla, “kadiri.” Kawawang bakla.

Pag ang bakla mukhang babae, maganda. Pero ang babae pag mukang bakla, pangit. Hahaha. Kawawang bakla.

Eto, talagang totoo. Pag ang baklang pa-girl malaki ang nota, alaskado siya sa mga kaibigan niyang bakla. Ang tomboy na pamin pag matambok ang pechay, kaiinggitan ng mga kaibigan niyang tomboy. Suwerteng tomboy, kawawang bakla.

Ang dami kong kaibigang Filipino-Chinese na tomboy at accepted ng family nila. Ang dami kong kaibigang Filipino-Chinese na tagong bakla. Yung iba umamin na lang noong patay na ang tatay nila. Kawawang bakla.

Pag may dumaan na bakla, sumisigaw ang mga batang kalye ng, “Bakla! Bakla!” Pero parang hindi pa ako nakarinig na sumigaw sila ng, “Tomboy! Tomboy!” Kawawang bakla.

Ang mga baklang nakadamit-babae, posibleng mabastos pag pumasok sa C.R. ng boys. Pag ang tomboy pumasok sa C.R. ng girls, okay lang na nakadamit-lalaki. Hindi kaya dahil lalaki lang ang nambabastos? Kawawang bakla.

Nabanggit ko na ito dati. Ang dami kong nakikitang tomboy na may ka-holding hands na babae. May nakita na ba kayong baklang hinolding hands ng boyfriend niya? In public, ha. Kawawang bakla.

Yung isang kaibigan kong tomboy, tuwang-tuwa daw ang tatay niyang sundalo nang malamang tomboy siya. Yung kaibigan kong bakla, binugbog ng tatay na sundalo nang malamang bakla. Kaloka. Kawawang bakla.

Pag ang anak na lalaki or babae masama ang ugali, ang tawag “black sheep.” Pag bakla ang anak na masama ang ugali, ang tawag “salot.” May kaibigan nga ako na mabait naman, salot pa din ang turing ng pamilya. Maryosep, kawawang bakla.

Kadalasan ang lalaki, kapag nakikipag-break sa girlfriend nila, kasi may ibang babae. Kapag ang lalaki, nakikipag-break sa bakla, kasi may ibang bakla or babae. Heto ang kakaiba, may kaibigan akong bakla, iniwan siya ng jowa niya kasi nag-born again. Ang say ni bakla, “Anong palagay niya sa akin, demonyo?” Kawawang bakla.

Ang batang lalaki ‘pag kumikendeng, sasabihin “bakla paglaki.” ‘Pag ang batang babae, macho kumilos, sasabihin ay “boyish” lang. Kawawang baklita.

Ang mga babae tuwang-tuwa ‘pag pumupunta sa gay bar. Ang mga bakla, kawawa sa pandidiri ‘pag pumunta sa girlie bar. Sure ako diyan. Sinama ako dati ng mga kaibigan kong lalaki, awang-awa ako sa sarili ko. Huhuhu.

Nakakatawa pero nakakasad yung joke na ito (buti na lang joke):

PARI: Ang mga bakla ay hindi makakapasok sa langit.

BAKLA: Ok lang ‘yon Father. Doon na lang kami sa Rainbow, magslide-slide.

Which made me think. Ang mga bakla lang ang makakaisip ng ganoon. Hindi na papasukin sa langit pero nakuha pang mag-taray at lumigaya sa pag-slide sa rainbow.

Dito sa Pilipinas, sa Quezon City na lang, tabi-tabi ang gay bar. Lesbian bar, may nakita ka na?

Alam niyo ba na may mga spa at massage parlor na para lang sa mga bakla? Bongga!

Walang baklang istambay. As in pang lalaki lang ang word na ‘yan. Yun nga lang, may baklang pusher at bugaw pero may trabaho pa din. Bihira ang baklang holdaper. Yung kumukuha na lang ng hindi kanila. May na-meet na akong baklang snatcher at akyat-bahay, at least, nag-effort muna sa pagtakbo at pag-akyat. Hahaha.

Ang word na “pink peso” ay dedicated daw sa pera na kinikita at ginagastos ng mga bakla.
Madami daw bakla sa call center na pinapayagang mag-boses babae kasi boses babae talaga. I doubt kung madaming tomboy ang boses lalaki. Aminin.

May kaibigan akong tomboy na nag-commit ng suicide after iwan ng girlfriend. Ang mga bakla ‘pag iniwan ng jowa, mababaliw lang—iiyak…mag-e-emote…magkukulong sa kwarto…magluluto…magpapa-parlor…’tapos may jowa na ulit. Taray! I should know.

Mas madaming bakla ang nanalo sa mga make-up at hair style competition. Oo naman.
Ang mga bakla, may taste. Pag sinabi naming pangit, pangit talaga ‘yon. Pero pag sinabi naming maganda, ay maganda talaga ‘yon. May kaibigan akong lalaki. May pina-date sa akin na barkada daw niyang guwapo. Sa barkada nila, ‘yon daw ang pinaka-guwapo. Nang makita ko, ang naisip ko lang, “Diyos ko po! Ano pa itsura ng pangit sa barkada nila?” May barkada naman akong babae. Pinakilala sa akin yung manliligaw niya. Super guwapo daw. Pucha, pagkakita ko, napa-C.R. ako.

Ang mga bakla, masaya kasama. Maingay, nakakatawa at hindi boring.

Come to think of it. Hindi rin pala kami masyadong kawawa. Mga bakla, tara na sa Rainbow at mag-slide-slide in this particular order:

RED- Mga baklang pa-girl, operada at mukhang babae. Go, mga sisters!

ORANGE- Mga batang bakla. Slide na, mga anak!

GREEN- Mga paminta, mukhang lalaki, members ng guys4men.com. Slide na, mga pare!

YELLOW- Mga baklang may asawa at anak. You deserved to be happy. Slide na!

VIOLET- Mga baklang bisexual, dito kayo kasi alanganing red, alanganing blue. Go!

INDIGO- Mga baklang Diva at Mama. Halina mga sisters. Mama Ricky, kapit lang po mabuti. Sunod na po ako in a while.

BLUE- Mga baklang tago at ayaw umamin, dito kayo. Kahit hindi kayo umaamin, may karapatan din kayong mag-slide sa rainbow natin. Ingat lang sa pagtili at baka mabuking. Diyan kayo sa dulo para hindi mahalata ng bayan na nakikipaglaro kayo sa amin. Don’t worry, we understand. Alam ko, kawawa din kayo. Sssshhhh….

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I was at one of the busier McDonald’s branches in Quezon City, with friends waiting for some other friends, when I saw a young cute guy, must be in his late teens, queuing up at the food counter. He’s got a pretty face partly obscured by his baseball cap which matched quite well with his sporty shirt, walking shorts, and immaculately white sneakers. He saw me looking at him, and his gaze stayed on for more seconds than necessary. He let go of the stare only after the girl in the counter called his attention, perhaps clarifying something on the food he was ordering. He was really cute. Yummy by any standards. He was not alone though. Towering behind him, obviously a companion, was a balding man with a bouncing belly, perhaps in his 50s, his right hand on the boy’s left shoulder.

Based on their looks and their body language, I thought he cannot possibly be the boy’s father, nor any family member.

“Mag-jowa,” I whispered to my seatmate, my lips puckering to point to the odd couple’s direction.

“Judgmental ka!” my seatmate replied, his eyes betraying his words. I knew he thought the same way I did about boy and bundat, but was trying to be the more world peace-ish one.

I took out my camera, jokingly said “Picture-an ko kaya… tapos i-blog ko sa MGG?”

My seatmate got all stern and sarcastic, “sige, palaganapin mo ang pagiging judgmental!”

The couple, after getting their orders from the counter, walked past our table and sat at the most inconspicuous corner of the restaurant. Shooting glances to where they were seated, I continued to observe. Their conversation was choppy, not fluid, and they were speaking, seemingly, in unnecessarily quiet whispers. All these amidst the bustling, jostling noise of McDonald’s crew and crowd.

Youth, holding a net shopping bag filled with walnuts, a love gift, draws close to a man who reaches out to fondle him; Attic red-figure plate 530-430 BCE; Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.

In antiquity, pederasty as an educational institution for the inculcation of moral and cultural values, as well as a form of sexual expression, entered history from the Archaic period onwards in Ancient Greece, though Cretan ritual objects reflecting an already formalized practice date to the late Minoan civilization, around 1650 BCE.

The ancient Greeks, in the context of the pederastic city-states, were the first to describe, study, systematize, and establish pederasty as an institution. As keystone of the Greek paideia, the relationship between lover and beloved (erastes and eromenos) was valued for fostering excellence in the youth as well as in the man who loved him.

The topic of pederasty was the subject of extensive analysis. Some of the principal questions discussed were:

* Is pederasty right or wrong?
* Which form should pederasty take, chaste or sexual?
* What kind of sexual acts are legitimate?

[Source]

Sponsor — that’s how some people call it nowadays. It first entered my consciousness several years ago when I was dating this tall, hot guy who I later found out had a “sponsor” — according to him, just a friend, who is so wise he loved every minute talking to him. He just missed to tell me he was also so kind he would lavish him with expensive gifts supposedly without expecting anything in return. A repeat performance with the actor I dated who also had, rumors have it, a history of having rich gay sponsors.

As in the referenced studies above, I too have questions in my mind on this topic –

* It seems that pederastic relationships have weathered time and culture that they have, while in incrementally different forms, persisted to this day. Why? What is it about this type of relationship that, despite sneers and jeers, made it a template with considerable longevity?
* Is there something fundamentally flawed in such relationship? Is it wrong?
* Between the lover and the beloved, the sponsor and the one being sponsored, the older and the younger, who wins? Who loses?
* On a more personal level, do you see yourself being a participant of such setup, either as a beloved young man, or a mature lover to the young, fresh one?

Feel free to express your thoughts here.

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This one’s not for the faint-hearted! LOL!

Timog Avenue’s infamous Bar Uno Comedy Lounge is mounting “Proud 2 B Gay: Grand Eyeball” on Friday, August 15, 2008. It’s a comedy variety show, the intimately funny, friendly, brutal, sexy, slutty version Bar Uno is quite known for among its regulars. And not to forget, they’re featuring their “wild-wild-wet” bikini-clad hunks parading on their ramp so close, you can almost touch “it”… hehehe! Millet, the bar’s manager says, “as usual, para ito sa ating mga ‘kapatid’ hehehe… may promo pala for Manila Gay Guy readers… Buy 4 tickets and they’ll get 1 ticket for free.”

The event will be hosted by their comedians Tsoknut, Iya, Kulafuh, Kim, and Tekla. Featuring Uno Republic Dancers, exotic dancers, and Bar Uno’s top male models. “Basta po lahat ng ikalulugod ng mga bading andun na lahat promise!” says Millet.

For inquiries, text/call them at 0921-4888884 or 376-4941. Bar Uno Comedy Lounge is located at #28 Timog Avenue, Quezon City.

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It’s sad when out gay guys bash the closeted ones. Why? Because all out gay guys start out closeted. We all go through that phase, and therefore, we should be able – we are expected – to understand why some of our brothers choose to stay closeted, even if perhaps, we ourselves found peace with being out in the open.

It’s sad, too, when closeted ones sneer on their out counterparts. They, the closet cases, should realize that the only real difference between them and their out counterparts is a critical decision to let others know about their otherwise private sexual preference. Note that the difference is an act of volition — so, out or closeted, there is really no fundamental difference.

These thoughts, among many others, were running through my mind as I sipped my green tea at Kozui, a wonderful cozy place to hang-out along Morato in Quezon City.

What then is our lesson learned? Well tell me what you think should be the lesson here. I’m in the mood for some reflection — yes, green tea does that to me.

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