A lot of people have been asking me how it’s going in the Philippines. Well, for starters I fucked this girl on the left here:
It was easy. Too easy… so easy it was barely even fun. The universe basically conveyer-belted me into casual sex.
I wasn’t even going to go out until this reader from twitter DM’d me:
He said he would pay me $100 to “shadow” me for the night, as we go out to bars/clubs. He wanted to see how I “operate” in that kind of environment. Probably because he reads all these incredible posts about me Getting Pussy over and over and he thinks: I need to see this in action.
He thinks I’m some broke ass nigga and he can just bribe me with cash. Luckily for him I really am a broke ass nigga, and so I agreed.
To be honest I was dreading this night. Partially because I’ve been generally low lately, Filipina tinder has been a huge waste of time, I caught a cold, the air quality is passively poisoning me, but most of all I’m just not confident in my ability to pick up women at clubs. It’s not a thing I like to do. I am an awkward antisocial sensitive young freak. The vast majority of my leads come from the internet. As in dating apps or, in the past year, Substack. Guys read my blog and meet me expecting some smooth-talking huge dick socially radiant alpha-chad and they’re often disappointed to learn that actually no, most of my hookups come from this blog. But that’s the truth. It’s so much easier to get with a girl when she first meets me as “Worst Boyfriend Ever” and not some random white guy at a bar.
But I met up with him anyway. ‘Cause I need the money. And I was lonely. And I know, over time, things work out for me when I just go out and do the thing.
We got sushi and he told me about his relationship. It was fraught. He seemed disappointed I wasn’t very enthusiastic about going out to meet girls. I told him on most nights nothing happens, but I try to show up just in case.
After the sushi I was yawning. Ready to pack it in, go home, jerk off and fall asleep. Didn’t happen.
He led me to a few bars until we found something suitable. Rooftop bar-club called Sanctuary in Makati City. Aggressively blow-your-ears-off-loud American pop-rap-club music blasting over expensive fruity drinks. Purple lights, uncomfy chairs at tiny tables, I wanted to go home.
But then we sat down beside 3 people who turned out to be very fun.
Penguin-short gay guy who turned out to be a FtM trans. Didn’t notice till hours later when he lifted up his shirt to reveal the horizontal scar where they once cut off his titties. Bravo, you pass.
6’4 black male with a great face. Charismatic. Bisexual. Stood out even more than me.
Shy semi-thick hispanic girl. Unimportant to story.
All three of these people are priceless. I learned none of their names.
We all sat together somewhat awkwardly for at least an hour suffering through blaring pop music until we were all drunk enough to form some kind of connection.
Slowly the venue began to fill. Hot girls everywhere. They all look at me with obvious intrigue but I have nothing to say. This is my usual hiccup at clubs. There is no reason for me to talk to them besides “I want to fuck you.” I am not interested in any of these peoples’ lives. I wish this was not the case but it is.
My reader-friend, though, thankfully, is less autistic than me. He sees our 6’4 black friend Toby (his name’s not Toby but I’ll call him Toby for simplicity’s sake) chatting up these two hot filipina girls. There were actually three, but one of them wasn’t so hot so we didn’t really see her.
Yes my reader-friend is a normal socially functioning human being so he says Hey let’s go join the convo! I sperg out imagining the consequences but brace myself for impact. We join the group, ambassadored-in by Toby who everyone loves. Yeah we’re Toby’s friends. We just met him an hour ago but we don’t say that. Our vibes are so pristine it feels like we’ve known each other for years. I later learn that Toby posts videos of himself having sex anonymously on twitter, so I feel great camaraderie with this person and in a sense Have, known him for years–anyways so now we’re all standing in this group and immediately I get to work.
The girl who happens to be closest to me is sexy, adorable, skinny-lean tiny tight surfer body, tan, the definition of petite. Her name is Christina, which is almost the name of my sister. She’s wearing an army-green tank top and short short short short-jean-shorts with white calvin klein undies creeping up out the top. She’s an example of a girl who, if I was at home jerking off to instagram reels, I would stop on her and deem her worthy of my climax. And she has tits too… she’s just 5 feet tall and 80lbs but for this build they are perfect. The reason I’m able to conjure this image so vividly is because I took a picture of her at one point, posing with her friends, wearing my shirt on her arms.
The incredible thing about the Philippines, and my status here, is that she, a girl who looks like this, is totally looks-matched with a guy who looks like me.
I am a 7. I do not have a particularly attractive face. Yes my eyes are green but my skin is so pale, and my jaw is somewhat recessed, and I am tired, so tired. You can feel it before you see. I’ve got crows feet, these wrinkles on my temples that are exacerbated so horribly whenever I laugh or smile. I’m poorly shaved, I haven’t tweezed my unibrow in months, I really am not an attractive guy. But throughout the night I realized, over and over, that the sexual marketplace is flipped here, and so it was an honor for her to be seduced by someone who looks like me.
J R, the guy who paid me to come out here tonight, surely got his money’s worth. Because immediately in PVP with this girl and her group I went into Expert Mode. Negging, playing, asking way-too-personal questions, teasing her in exactly the way I learned from those mid-2000s pick up artists and red pill freaks online.. She says she’s a nurse and I’m saying she’s a freak. All nurses are freaks. Turn to her friends: this girl’s a freak right? She said she’s a nurse… I know what those girls do. She shows me pictures of her sister on Instagram. Cast doubt about which sibling is hotter. You all look the same to me anyways. When you’re on the top of the food chain you can just say whatever the fuck you want. Laughs ensue.
She dips for a bit to have a smoke. Her only detectable flaw is that she smokes cigarettes. Other than that she’s pretty much perfect. But of course that’s not what I say.
Her friends ask me: Are you going to get with her?? Do you like her?? I say No, I’m gay. Just kidding. Do I like her? Meh… I don’t know. I’m still making up my mind. We’ll see.
Meanwhile internally I am just barely containing my erection. Just barely containing my impulse to stop with all these words and just lean down and kiss her. She’s got a midsection reminiscent of that “neuron activation” meme with the monkey wide-eyed staring. She’s matching with her other Filipina friend, also terribly hot with more of a baby face wearing circle-glasses and for some reason, a red-and-black striped tie. They both have braces at age 22. Really common here. I’m kind of a pedophile so it only further turns me on. To be honest I like the friends’ face a bit more, but Christina, thie tight little barbie doll I’m working on told me that she Loves to Read… Oh Really? What do you read? “You know Robert Greene? 48 Laws of Power?” I knew how the rest of the night would go just from that. If you’re a 22 year old Filipina nurse who “Loves to read” “48 laws of power” you and I are going to get along.
I join her for a smoke and she asks me do you like Asian girls?? Have you had girlfriend?? Was she asian? Classic shit test, like 70% of them ask me this. I respond: Asian girls like me.
And it’s true… the night goes on and everyone seems to be forcing us together. The group of 3 gays + me and my twitter friend + these 3 filipina girls are now a sprawling group of 8. Many more drinks are had. My friend asks me: “are you gonna take her home?” I say, half-truthfully: I am unconcerned! I think this is the best mindset to have. We actually talked about this earlier. It’s always better when you drop your ulterior motive and just exist.
Da club is kind of gay as always but the Filipinos are a great crowd. And I will reiterate for the millionth time because it is that true: THEY LOVE WHITE PEOPLE. They pulled me into dance circles and cheered me on. They bought me free drinks. I was left alone for a second, at the bar, ordering more, and on both sides of me are early 20s fit hot pinays lightly dancing/grinding up against me/silently begging for my attention. I could feel them ovulating, my skin could smell it, ancient urges screamed at me to just grab them but I knew that would make my based little girlfriend Christina feel pretty terrible so I abstained. If you are a decent looking white guy and you hate dating in the US, sell everything and get your ass on a flight. Go into debt if you have to.
10PM became 3AM and obviously I took the girl home. My condo is pretty dang nice, with a pool and a view, and it’s a 10min walk away, and I tell her this, and she tells her friends this, and thankfully they all just leave us alone. I said you’re coming back with me. I’m taking you to my place and we’re going to shower (we’re caked in sweat, everyones’ caked in sweat, being outside in southeast asia means you’re constantly caked in sweat) and then we’re going to blast the AC and get under the covers and fall asleep. And maybe if you’re lucky something else will happen. She laughed and obliged.
I have mixed feelings about all this. I’m starting to more heavily question the benefits of “casual sex.” I don’t think it’s good for women. I think most of the women who I fuck and then never see again are, in retrospect, hurt by and regretful of the situation. As time goes on, it is getting harder and harder to do. Not physically… the actual process of getting these women is getting easier and easier to do, but the emotional toll of taking these girls’ pants off and looking into their eyes and pretending like, even on a subconscious level, that this is love, that I don’t feel bad for them as I do it, the voice in my head telling me No is getting louder and louder.
And it’s worse in the Philippines, because generally these local girls are not sluts. The whole dating and hookup culture is different. You know how a small percentage of girls on American dating apps have something like “NOT into hookups, looking for something SERIOUS” on their profiles and we all laugh at them? That is… the norm here. The feminist sexual liberation where you all fuck Chad and then get really sad about it when he forgets you has not yet made its way to the Philippines. But here I am… most of these girls actively openly WANT, from their late teens, to get married and have kids. They are looking for a husband. And here I am on these apps farming 999+ matches, at this club with my pick of the litter, making this poor sweet educated workaholic girl just a little more ran-through. And for what? Why? So I can feel really good for like 300 seconds?
I am also human… I took her back to my place, down the dingy slummy streets and into the beautiful lobby of the Knightsbridge Inn and up the elevator, where she probably felt like a bit of a common whore, giving it up for another tourist-white-guy, we stepped into my room and I could not help but show her my book. I know it’s so retarded for me to do this, because firstly she reads all the stuff in my book… (asian fetish, cheating, prostitutes, viagra, etc…..) and then she learns about the whole internet phenomenon of it all, so she’ll probably one day be reading this eventual post. About her. That you and I are enjoying together today. But despite this I show her the book anyway… because I don’t want to be just another sex-pat tourist white guy.
She had the reaction most open-minded girls do, first they go WOW what the fuck? And then they read to the end of the first chapter and they say… actually I like this.
And I’ll just be gay and say it: I like her too. She is sweet, smart and sincere. She’s not on twitter, she’s on instagram recording her life in video like most healthy attractive social girls do. Her body count is 5 which is too many for a local girl, she tells me. Far too many. I say in America that’s nothing and you don’t have to stay here forever. She says I know.
She’s jealous of me because I’m the luckiest man alive. I leave my phone unattended with my credit cards attached at the club in Makati City and nobody picks it up. I leave the door to my room unlocked every single time I go out, I leave cash on the table and all over the place, nobody abuses my trust, nothing ever happens. I’ve had this fun little personal religious belief lately that if I just trust everyone, nobody will screw me over. Sounds counterintuitive but it has been working so far. I make predictions about the way people will act and I trust my predictions. Almost no one surprises me now.
My condo, instead of having one queen sized bed, has two Twin XLs side by side.
I shower, she showers, and we fall asleep.
I’m not in a rush to fuck her, I don’t even need to, until it’s the next morning and I wake up hard attached to her thigh and now suddenly I need to.
I don’t want to, she’s so small I know it’s going to hurt her physically, I’m flying away in three days I know it’s going to hurt her emotionally… but I need to finish the job. So I tease her with my dick until she’s wet. Until she’s moaning and cursing me for bringing this upon her. It is a burden to be turned on. My alternative is that I kick her out and just jerk off to her memory. No. That’s depressing. She wants me to use a condom and I’m in another country where I cannot be held hostage/thrown in Filipino prison and so I oblige. My last condom remaining. I almost didn’t find it. If not then we would not have had sex. I enter from behind and push her down from doggy to prone. Prone, prone, why is everyone not fucking prone? You get no leverage above-ground, in that little squat, what are people doing? Will never understand why so many girls default to that. No, down on your stomach, like I’m giving you a massage, good. She’s moaning well. She told me earlier filipino guys have small dicks and I believe her. She is definitely the smallest girl I’ve ever fucked in my life, a tiny part of me is wary not to hurt her. She’s not terribly wet/screaming ‘cause all in all she doesn’t know me that well and my heart is not 100% in the game. I can’t stop feeling bad. Something about her is untainted by the world… I can’t quite put my finger on it.. Oh, no tattoos. Yeah. Filipinos tend to have tattoos, but this girl is just barely smart enough to abstain. Every time we kiss she bites my lower lip hard and I moan like a bitch. I don’t prolong the sex, the cultural divide between us finally becomes apparent as I am suddenly entirely uninterested in speaking, whispering, communicating with her at all. Alone in my own head. In the best of times there is some kind of conversational thread through the sex, we are making each other laugh, it is play. For some reason this sex here is work. I am just relieving myself of erectile pressure. Using her tiny little corpse as a receptacle. She does not seem to mind.
November 5th, 4:27 PM
I’m in a Grab, a Filipino uber. He just asked me if I want to take the skyway. The toll bridge. What does it add, like 20 pesos extra? So like 80 US cents…? Uh fuck yeah, obviously. Time is more precious.
I’m on the way to the airport. I’m flying out of Manila this evening. 1h30m flight to Cebu City. I made this choice to leave Manila and head to Cebu City that night after I got sick, last week, after the air pollution kicked my lungs in the ass and I realized I could not go for a run on this island anywhere. And that, coupled with the piss on the streets, the way most strangers passing by would always ask me for shit, or make me feel like a, for lack of a better word, a guest, as accommodating and polite as they are, it felt so suffocating I knew I had to leave the city. Out onto another island. Deeper into the country.
I chose Cebu. Because that’s where all the sexpats go, I am told. “IT Park,” specifically. It will be developed in a small metropolitan bubble and then it will be pure island. I will go on hikes, I will go to the beach, I will inhale the clean island air and stay outside and maybe god maybe I will even find myself happy.
I’m blinking my eyes in pain. I’m looking at my face in the black of the screen, it’s withered. I will eat at the airport for sure. I got breakfast with Christina today and then spent the whole day with her. I don’t have the strength to do her justice now, in words. Yes we fucked, twice, it was probably some of the best sex she ever had. It must have been. She told me so many times: “I cannot read you. I can read every other guy, every other person, I cannot read you. I do not know what you’re thinking.”
On the way out she got my autograph. God it’s all so fucking sad.
Grab gets to airport in 3 mins. I’m so early. Goodbye.
Cebu City
November 9th, 1:10 PM
There is this fear in the back of my head wherever I go now, that my actions are representative of the White Man in general, when I cut someone off walking autistically down the street they think: Rude obnoxious white man. Idiot. Just here to fuck whores ‘cause he can’t get any back home. If only they knew…
This trip has injected a little more empathy in me for “foreigners” of any place. When I walk anywhere all eyes are on me, it consumes a not-insignificant amount of my limited attention/brainpower, and so I act a little ditzy/lightheaded/head-in-the-clouds. Entire families go quiet and stare at me whenever I walk by. It is hard to get a good read on the average native filipino, I haven’t been here long enough or talked to enough people. I have this belief that like, talking to an uber driver or something is just a depressing waste of time. Or, would be. I would say hey what do you like about Cebu? What are your favorite restaurants? Beaches? Where should I go to meet girls? He won’t know. or he’ll give me the most basic tourist bougie spots, double the price of the places he goes. it sounds classist and mean i know but i don’t want the input of a person who drives for uber in the Philippines making 14 dollars a day. then again i could just ask better questions. i just feel there’s not much he could say that could ever surprise me. And that’s approximately how I feel about dates with the girls, too.
November 10th, 12:49 PM
Adderall is illegal in the Philippines. So of course the girls are interested. The girl last night had never tried it before, and she asked me if she could take one, and I never ever say no to any girl in any situation until we’ve had sex, so stupidly I obliged. She then got to experience sex with a white man for the first time, on adderall. Good for her.
She was relatively-smart for a Filipino girl. She didn’t think we’d be going back to my room tonight. She didn’t think I’d actually be so tall. She told me all she wants in a man is that he’s funny and tall. She said her last boyfriend was “6 feet tall” but he’s much shorter than me. I laughed. You lying niggers. Her name was Hallie. Which is a stupid name I know. But I did not tell her this, because in-person I’m very nice. She said she was “impressed” by me, she pretty much submitted totally within a half hour of our meeting. She was qualifying herself, she was nervous, she was blissfully unaware I had spent the preceding 4-6 hours hounding various idiot girls on tinder trying to get a date. I told her I was “working.” Which, I guess, in a way, was true.
We met inside a Starbucks. In the moment she first saw my face I was laughing. Big toothy smile—I saw her text that said “bruh i can’t find you” and laughed looking down at it, then I looked up at her, she was amazed that I was a real person. There is no one who looks like me just roaming around in this area. Most of the whites are fat soft old short lumpy cue balls who these mini-girlboss local girls, apparently, despise. At one point she asked me do you think you’re like those guys? I said there is no one like me.
After dinner I took her to my place. It is very nice, because life is short and I love spending money. She could not help but notice the pill bottle full of adderall on my bedside table. She said OMG Can I try one?! I said yeah, but you’re gonna be up all night. She said I don’t care! I said OK and gave her a 20mg IR, which is what I have. And then we had unprotected penetrative sex. It was good. She told me she was on birth control and I just believe everything everyone tells me now because I’m a happy-go-lucky sexpat retard and so I came inside her and rolled over, congratulating myself on another job well done.
Usually when I fuck a girl well she falls asleep, and that’s how I know I did a good job. But this bitch just took 20mg Adderall, for the first time ever, so obviously she was up all night. Pestering me, wanting more fuck, telling me about Filipino men and how small they are and how 90% of them are pro-life Catholics but she would never let one of them cum inside because of their “inferior genetics...” I just had to laugh. I handed her a copy of “Worst Boyfriend Ever,” the book, so she could read it all night in lieu of conversation.
Thankfully she did not rob me. I thought there was a small chance I’d wake up and all my shit would be gone, she’d steal my laptop, cash, etc, but this girl has girlboss “data analyst” tech job at IT Park so she didn’t seem to want or need my money. But I took a picture of her government ID before I fell asleep, just in case. Her real name is Angel.
I figured she would be gone by the time I woke up. She wasn’t. It was noon. She called out of work, saying she was sick. She asked if I wanted to get breakfast and I said no.
Sigh. I felt like a cliche, wanting her to have disappeared without explicitly telling her to leave. She says she doesn’t get attached, most guys get so attached and it’s so annoying, and she’s so glad that I’m not like that, but also she called out of work on a Monday morning so she could lay in bed with me instead. She said she’s never been with a white guy before, because they “usually don’t impress me” and I just sighed, again, knowing I’m in the wrong place.
I asked when did you finally fall asleep. She said 6 AM. She said I read all of your book. Do you want feedback? I said no. I hate feedback. I don’t read comments I don’t read reviews I just write my shit and it is what it is. She could not help but tell me that she liked it anyways. OK. It is, apparently, “very interesting.”
A few days ago I posted that I was done with “casual sex,” but then a few days went by and I got horny and lonely and my room in Cebu turned out to be way nicer than I thought and so I couldn’t help but find someone to share it with. I used Tinder, because Tinder only works for hot guys, and here in this country I am considered a very hot guy.
She told me be careful of Filipino girls, they will scam you, they will use you, I just laughed, because that’s what everybody’s been telling me, but honestly the idea of getting into some mental tug of war with some sufficiently wily local girl who knows what she wants and is smart enough to trick me... would be a lot more fun than what I’ve experienced so far.
LARPing as Anthony Bourdain on My Last Day in Cebu
November 11th, 10:57 AM
My flight to Dumaguete is tomorrow. In search of slower island life. Too much hustle and bustle of big city. Too much air pollution. Too much trash in streets. Every time I go outside I’m coughing. Cebu basically had the same issues as Manila.
But for some reason last night at 4 AM I had a revelation—I should just pretend to be Anthony Bourdain Parts Unknown … I should just imagine I’m him and that might motivate me to see a lot more of this island with a 2 million person population before I depart.
I woke up at 9:30 and immediately went out to get a massage. I did a little googling and walked down the street lookin for an ATM — I only had 2000 pesos in my pocket, which I thought probably wouldn’t be enough for a sufficiently tasteful handjob to start my day, but then I remembered I was in the Philippines where nothing costs anything so I stepped into “Chuva Chuva Massage” at about 10 AM wearing my fresh Uniqlo tee and short black running shorts looking like a real sucker (but also the most beautiful person for miles in any direction) just in broad daylight walked into this asian massage parlor on the side of a busy street right next to a Starbucks and everything else.
The interior is pretty nice, for an asian massage parlor in a third world country. There’s no one at the counter, but looking to my right I see this little 5’1-ish filipina girl caked with makeup wearing one of those short tiny black dresses, she resembles a human suitcase. I used to really give a fuck about how the girl looked at these places but then I grew up and saw it as the business transaction it really is. I came here 60% for the back massage anyway, my low back was aching last night and that’s when I made the decision to come.
She is approximately 33 years old. Honestly a pretty decent roll, as far as these things go. The menu says 1,000 pesos for 1 hour — i say how much for 30 minutes? she says same price. I Lol and say Okay. She says why only 30 minutes? I say so I can get on my computer! This third world masseuse has no idea that I only have a limited amount of time each day to “lock in” — adderall and coffee in the daytime at a cafe in public, and every second I spend with you is a second I’m not writing about you, so make it snappy you fucking jappy! She wasn’t japanese she was filipino. She ask where you from like all the fucking people ask me here and I said U S A ! U S A ! I’m so proud to say it. Thank you God Emperor Trump for instilling me with this newfound national pride.
Anyways 1,000 pesos is like 18 USD so I’m sitting real pretty enjoying this massage for half an hour, she’s kneading my neck my back my pussy and my crack *it’s a reference*, in reality she asked me “prostate? you like prostate? i said NO!!! NO PROSTATE! EVERYTHING BUT PROSTATE!! because im not fucking gay. She said OK and did not question the validity of that philosophy. Instead she climbed onto the table and oiled up my beautiful white naked body and gave me a 6.5/10 massage for like half an hour, i always want to tell these people to go harder but my life is so much better than theirs i can not bear to do it. still being touched feels good either way. i thought about celine, the girl who probably never thinks about me at all until she gets something like this in her inbox, and i also thought: how could i integrate massage into my daily routine? could it actually be affordable here? could it help me write better words? could the confidence, the oxytocin i receive from these nameless faceless identificationless mid 30s asian women actually propel me to greater heights in my very important intellectual laptop work? yes. but that’s an issue for another day. for this day i’m just hoping she doesn’t ask me for way more money on the flip, ‘cause sometimes they do that. by “on the flip,” for you virgin nerds who have never felt the touch of an asian masseuse, I mean that after they’re done caressing your back they tell you to flip, and that’s when they drain you of everything you’ve got. if you’re ugly and retarded, that is.
thankfully i am beautiful and ingenious, so she asked “i jerk your dick? i make you ejaculate?” and i said yes please. she said you cum quick? i said lets find out! she didn’t appreciate my attempts at humor. the language barrier kills all genuine connection. i accepted this a couple nights ago in bed with some floozy off tinder and that’s why i’m back to massage parlors today.
so i’m facing up and she’s on her knees between my legs cause she’s small, shes waxing it real slow with great care and every time i look at her she says “this ok? you ok? something wrong?” no… i just like to look at the girl while she jerks me off. is that not normal? i don’t say this, it’s too many words, i just say. yes. good. good. then finally she goes for the upsell. ok sir, we have more services here. she looks into my eyes and i’d bet everything i have that she wants to fuck more than I do. she says you can grab my boobs for 2 thousand. i say Sure. I just take what life offers me. Say yes to everything. Today I am Anthony Bourdain. Last night my friend tried to kill himself and he messaged me on substack before he did it. I thought he was joking. We called for a bit and then the call dropped because I didn’t have enough international talktalk points or whatever and I just said Ah he’s probably fine. He wasn’t fine, he took a swan dive off a bridge somewhere in seattle and unfortunately survived that and messaged me about it, i said what the fuck and sent another friend after him, apparently he’s okay. Anyways my asian massage lady “Apple” here took her top off and so I got to feel her “boobs.” they were perfect small naturals. big bulbous nipples like chestnuts. definitely natural. she knows she has nice tits relatively and that’s probably why she goes for this specific upsell. jewishly I asked: 2000 more or 2000 total? she said 2000 HERE. (so 3000 total) — I was like ahhh… i only have 1,000 more pesos on me. I can just go without it. and i really meant it. she could tell i really meant it and that i just tell the truth all the time now because i’m worst boyfriend ever and so she went its OK sir i let you do it for 1,000 XD i say ohh yess … she must enjoy it too. so handjob + fondling = i cum pretty much instantly all over my underdeveloped abdomen and she goes Wow!! i say STOP STOP!! because as soon as you cum (or as soon as I cum, I suppose i’ll speak for myself) any hand friction motion on the dick starts to hurt really bad.. she goes ok ok haha ha. she says you have virgin dick? i say um… no… i am definitely not a virgin. i have probably had more sex than every person reading this combined. she says no i mean you have pink dick, red dick… i dont know i couldnt understand, maybe she was trying to say you are circumcised and that’s why it hurts, or at least that’s the truth, fucking jews i will never forgive you people, um yeah so she toweled me off and brought me some water and told me you are very handsome sir, do you have a girlfriend?
no.
why not?
November 12th, 5:09 PM
aright now i’m on the smallest aircraft i’ve ever been on sitting next to the most beautiful random stranger girl i’ve ever rolled. unfortunately the word beautiful only refers to physical beauty— i talked to her for a moment to ask for a pen and she said no sorry revealing a heavy accent which made me sad because i am racist and can only have enjoyable conversations with people who are exceptionally fluent in english. i knew this would make me lonely in the philippines but i’m still holding out hope.
i’m on my way from cebu to dumaguete, a much less populated smaller slower island with three colleges, better beaches, and the expat american stamp of approval. there are no ubers there so i’ll be renting a motorbike and i have a feeling that’s going to be the highlight of my year. besides all the other highlights of my year.
the seats are so small i had to put my backpack in the overhead. i never ever do that. i like to have all my tools right in front of me at all times. i grabbed one of my old notebooks so i could read it, and no pen. not enough time. girl beside me was hot, people were waiting, im rummaging through my bag fuck fuck fuck i just sat down with the notebook and no pen. so i had to shut up and read my own notes, from the van trip around the country, not all of them, only a tiny fraction were written physically like that, and they made me smile and laugh but also i was constantly distracted by the fact that this sexy human being to my right is being deprived of my acquaintanceship because I am, till the bitter end, just stuck up my own ass in my own head completely fucking alone.
Dumaguete
November 13th, 10:55 AM
Tried to rent a motorbike today. I’ve never driven one before but I thought it can’t be that hard. I’ve been on bicycles and I’m a fast learner. I was walking down the street feeling confident and saw one of these places (they’re everywhere) and asked them how much to rent for a day?
He said 500 Pesos sir. Google tells me that’s $8.49. Great. Okay where do I sign? He took a picture of my US Drivers’ License and Passport and I signed something and then he just gave me the bike. It was that simple.
I was nervous. It was my first time. I told this to the guy, who just-barely spoke english, like every random guy here just-barely speaks english, and he seemed to understand.
He was helpful at first. He wheeled us off and gave me the run-down. Sit here. Ignition here. Kick stand. Rev engine. Go. I didn’t get the key information that you need to twist on the handlebar towards yourself to make it Go.
He could kind-of tell I wasn’t ready for this, but I looked at him with great confidence and I’m a tall white man who generally looks like he knows what he’s doing so he just let me go. When I finally did pull-twist the handlebar inwards to make the machine Go I accelerated so fast, propelling me forward and away like I had hit a speed-up ramp in Mario Kart. OH SHIT!! He just watched me go.
So now I’m flying down the street, other cars motorbikes and bug-walkers surround me in fear. I turn a right and quickly realize he didn’t teach me how to signal. Which one of these buttons is the turn signal? FUCK!!! I’m taking the widest fattest turns scaring everyone else on the road. I go straight and bang another right back onto the street where I first began.
I stop back near him to ask: TURN SIGNAL? HOW DO I SIGNAL?
He just comes up to me and says: Um.. someone yells from behind CANCELL! CANCEL! He says Ok give me key. I give him the key. I sit there on the seat a little sad and humiliated but also understanding.. I really Am Not ready for this thing, the tribe has spoken… He probably made the right choice telling me to “cancel,” returning my 500 pesos right back into my sad sweaty hand. No hard feelings. Thank you sir, have a nice day.
November 14th, 1:29 PM
Last night I got a massage. From a man. I went into the (nice) massage place below my new apartment, where they apparently give a very high quality full body Swedish massage. Okay we’ll see about that. It’s like 8pm. I have nothing better to do. Why not get a massage downstairs, for what, 8 USD?
So I went down there. Clean looking place. Peaceful music. Definitely not a rub ‘n tug.
The check in lady is not a mamasan but a person, she asks if I have reservation I say no, she says is male masseuse OK? I say uhh… I actually think about it for a sec, is a male masseuse ok? Yes. Ok, fine.
So I go into the room and take off just my shirt, no funny business today. He asks me to take my socks off so he can wash my feet. Oh man that sight made me feel bad. That my life is like this and his life is like that.
This story has no punchline. There is no plot twist, he just gave me a very high quality hour-long full body massage and there was nothing erotic or sexual about it at all. My pants stayed on the whole time. He did better than any woman had ever done. Every muscle in my body was accounted for. But the best part was that this was a forced hour without looking at my phone, without having the option to check my messages or use the internet, an hour of mental silence, peace. Good.
After the massage he used very hot towels to wipe me down and asked if I would like some water or ginger tea. Both, please. I went out to the lobby and the tea tasted good. I felt almost calm enough to sleep.
Another late 20s or early 30s white guy stepped out into the lobby from another room, sporting that post-massage glow himself. He paid. He apparently tipped. He said, in such a faggoty way, “the tip goes to HER right?” Shut the fuck up nigga, they are all the same person. It’s a different culture. I would know, I’ve been here for 2 entire days. The check-in lady said yes, I think, and I just watched him go.
Then I went and paid too. My 1 hour massage was 450 pesos ($7 USD) and so I handed her a 1,000. She even made a joke, it is only 450 sir! as she handed me my change. Thank you kind lady. Good night.
Went back up to my room and tried to fall asleep. Tried but could not do it. Stayed up scrolling till maybe 11, when the phone world began to blur with the dream world and I knew it was time to submit. Vague thoughts of some girl I used to know plagued my mind and seeped into my dreams.
I’m going to give Dumaguete a little bit of a chance, unlike Manila and Cebu.
November 15th, 1:56 PM
3 AM last night. Tried to call a cab back to my hotel but failed. None available. Stranded. Suspiciously masculine woman on white motorbike pulls over near me and picks me up. Says where you going. I tell her the name of my hotel. Everyone knows where everything is here with no directions, it’s that small.
I was drunk and she seemed kind and the streets were empty. I couldn’t be 100% sure she was female but hugging her soft squishy body from behind felt so great I didn’t even care.
She brought me to my place and I gave her a 100 pesos bill. It’s all Monopoly money to me. You pretty much just give the drivers whatever you want here and their eyes light up like it’s Christmas, thank you so much sir, they actually can’t believe it. 100 pesos is $1.60 USD.
Anyways I step off the bike and we have a moment of reckoning: I’m looking into her eyes, at her facial structure, deciding whether or not I want to invite her inside. I’m not super horny, more just tired and ready to shower/sleep. Again I cannot 100% confirm that she is female so I just give her a big fat hug and wish her a good night. She rides off with a smile I read as genuine.
November 21st, 2025
At this moment I’m on a boat. On the second floor, in “Business Class,” a ticket I bought yesterday, for 1500 pesos, from Dumaguete to some other island in the Philippines called “Bohol.”
I found one of those tourist trap “adventures” on airbnb where they take you out into the jungle and tickle your balls and get you lunch and you swim in a waterfall and we’re going to see something called the “Chocolate Hills” — to be quite honest I don’t know what they’re going to do with me, I was just sick of my shut-in life in my studio apartment and so I went online looking for something different. I found it, it was $63 USD.
I told one of the Filipina girls I was texting on Tinder— “I’m doing this, come with me” which is always a great strategy for getting people to join you on these kinds of things. She was hesitant at first, she couldn’t believe it was real.
She had just quit her job that day. That day being yesterday. I didn’t ask too deeply about it. I just said yes I’m serious, if you want to join me then meet me at this bar/cafe tonight to confirm I’m not a psychopath and I’ll buy your ticket there and back on the spot.
Hesitantly she obliged. She warned me I’m not as pretty in person, I’m so short, oh oh oh, bitch I don’t care I’m just sick of being alone. I feel like such an alien freak out here, everyone stares at me everywhere I go because I’m a 6ft White and when she finally gets to the bar to meet me that’s all she can see too. She really is tiny, like a fun-sized milky way. She’s got a nice body, probably as-nice as you can have for a girl who is 5’1. She’s curvy and she lifts. Lucky me.
She’s 24. She wears those nerdy Asian circle glasses, which I like. She doesn’t read or watch movies or consume any kind of media at all as far as I can tell, which disappoints me. Every moment she’s spent with me must feel like a moment holding a golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. I’m pretty sure she understands that nothing will come of this, I’m a “psycho” traveling drifter and she is… 24. She’s moving away from Dumaguete next month, and so am I. She said she’s never been to Bohol and I said today is your lucky day.
And then she told me she’s a virgin. And I believed her. And so I probably won’t be flossing her pussy over and over throughout the next couple days. But that’s okay, because there really is more to life than sex.
After eating last night we played pool. It was a great venue for a date, it was called “Fun Cafe/Bar” on the second floor of some building downtown, right above the massage place where I got a four-hands handjob just a few days ago. No shame at all but I won’t tell that to Liv, because I think it would kill the vibe (she’s kind of a simpleton) and we’re going to be together for 3 days regardless. But we played billiards, which is what they all call it here not pool, and I was looking at her body standing up, and oh it looked scrumptious, she was wearing a tight blue tracksuit quarter-zipped down right into her cleavage, her hair was pulled tightly back into a ponytail, she was standing on bright white little sneakers over black spandex yoga pants, she looked like an especially sexy flight attendant. The quarter zipped athletic jacket conjured visions of my long-lost Celine.
I told her: if I win 3 games in a row you’re coming back to my place with me. She said okay because she just says okay to everything I say because to these people I’m basically Zac Efron.
I win all three games of pool. She laughs nervously. “How about 5 games? You win 5 games and you take me home?” I feel bad for her so yes fine we’ll make it 5. I win the next two too. I’m not destroying her, God seems to be placing the cue ball in easy spots for me to sink and she’s handicapped by the fact that she really is only 5 foot 1. You’ve got to crawl up on the table like a Lobster… yeah so I’ve won 5 games in a row and so we go out to get a cab.
The cabs here aren’t really cabs, they’re “TukTuks.” TukTuks are motorcycle-drawn carriages reminiscent of the royal Onion Cart from Shrek. This is their version of “public transportation” — you wave down one of these old poor decrepit brown guys in a TukTuk and you tell him where you want to go and he knows where that is because everyone knows where everything is here and he doesn’t even ask for money, you just give him whatever you feel like giving him and that’s OK SIR! and off you go.
It’s usually around 75 pesos, which is negative 4 USD. We waved down a TukTuk and I told the guy where to take us and he said OK SIR! and we hopped in. She fits snug by my side like a lunchbox.
The TukTuks are loud and a little bumpy but at least you can feel the wind on your face as you collect glances from every local girl on the road. Sometimes they hop in beside me and I can feel the sticky dampness of their arms on my skin. Nobody’s too squeamish about touching here. But tonight I’m with Liv, and when the driver drops us off at Redacted Residences, which is where I’ve been staying for the past week now, Liv hops out with me and I pull her inside.
Liv has never met a guy off tinder. Liv doesn’t do anything like this, ever. Liv’s heart is beating fast and it has been for the past couple hours since she’s been with me. Yes it was a big day for her indeed: she quit her job and then was accosted by a homeless woman and then she met up with a white guy off tinder for the first time offering her a free weekend trip to Bohol where we’ll be going on motorcycle-through-the-jungle-tier island adventures and we’re leaving tomorrow.... it’s all a blur to her I’m sure.
So we get into my place and I’m taking my clothes off and whipping her with my towel. Girls seem to like this. I actually jerked off right before our date, so that I’d be able to think about something anything other than sex. And it pretty much worked. I don’t like bringing my outside clothes onto my bed here so I take a shower. She does not shower but that’s okay.
She gets right on the bed and says “you’re scaring me…” with a radiant smile and I feel thankful she met me today instead of six months ago. After my shower I join her on the bed and click-on the movie Now You See Me. I enjoyed it. I felt like a magician myself.
I just used her like a body pillow, just like Celine. She didn’t really watch the movie at all, she just laid there beside me resting her head in my chest wondering what the hell was going on. She could never know, I was using her to simulate the experience of being with someone else. Having a do-over.
After the movie I turned off all the lights and un-hooked her bra. She told me: Only Up Here. Not down there. OK? Ok yes ok. My refractory period has finally expired since the pre-date jerk off sesh and my body is ready to go again. I am hesitant to request for a handjob, I sincerely believe she has never done this before. It just doesn’t feel right.
I’m still thinking mostly of Celine. I didn’t read Donald Boat’s snobbish hateful screed but I did do a lightning-fast scrollthrough, and at the one point I stopped it said “Celine is funnier than he is,” — which, I know. That’s why I look for her in everyone. Now I’m holding little Liv here so tight instead. Hard and need to cum so I can fall asleep, it’s that kind of night. My genius brain remembers what I did to some other girl in Florida: Hold her down in missionary and kiss her on the lips and dry-hump her in such a way that my subconscious thinks it’s sex, faster and faster until brilliantly I cum right into my boxer shorts pressed against her clothed-girl-pelvis. Ahh, big sigh. Much like Layla she has no idea what just happened, because she probably really is a virgin, and so she feels silently puzzled as I turn to roll off. Fall asleep goodnight.
Wake up at noon to 6 missed calls. We’re still going on that trip I haphazardly planned. Our boat is at 1 and apparently I bought her a ticket for the wrong day. Whoops. I half-don’t-even-want-to-do-it any more, now that I came on top of her, but the wiser part of my brain that keeps this show on the road tells me just go do the thing, you said you would do it, and so begrudgingly I proceed.
Buy her another ticket. Pop an adderall pack a bag and get on a TukTuk. Show up at the port 5 minutes before the gate closes. OceanJet Ferry from Dumaguete to Trablajablador1. All aboard. Second floor. Thankfully the girl and I are in totally separate seats, so that I can whip out my laptop, and slowly begin to type.
*these 20 year old filipino boys just let me ride their motorbike through the island of bohol for hours… probably the highlight of my entire month.
November 23rd, 9:06 AM
Sorry I haven’t been on here to respond to that apparently-scathing article about me. I have been busy using the money I made on Substack to explore the Philippines.
But a lot of people are messaging me about it, so I will respond:
Donald, I didn’t read your blog post because ignoring haters like yourself is how I’ve been able to get this far, This Far meaning I am making a living writing things that make me laugh. From my brief scroll through your very popular twitter page I surmise you are doing the same—just in a vastly less vulnerable and interesting way. You sure can write a hit tweet… but so can AI. In fact, AI could probably replicate everything you’ve ever written, because there is none of you in there at all.
You can join the pile of other jealous miserable snobs who earned a great big digital standing ovation writing about how much they loathe the “Boring Narcissist Diaries” of Worst Boyfriend Ever. But you will never ever reach me. You courage-less cowardly dog.
P.S. I’m sorry that girl in NYC ignored your DM and opted to lose her virginity in my van instead. If it makes you feel any better, she had a real good time, and does not regret it one bit. And she still listens to Red Scare.
P.P.S. I’m also sorry that you’re Indian.
Go get another MFA, like all of these other geniuses:
… and so on.
I suspect that for many of these people, these anti-Me reviews are some of the most popular pieces they’ll ever write. But probably not for you, Donald, if you really are 22. You seem potentially talented, why don’t you go make something original.
I’ll tell you what, if it’s interesting enough to catch my attention, unique or sincere enough to evoke some kind of emotional response, I’ll even write a REVIEW!
Until then, I’m headed to Tokyo. In mid-December. Some anonymous reader on here bought me a flight.
She says she’s a girl but I can’t be sure… we’ll see. Either way you’ll read about it, because this is what I do.
Tagbilaran
"She shows me pictures of her sister on Instagram. Cast doubt about which sibling is hotter. You all look the same to me anyways. When you’re on the top of the food chain you can just say whatever the fuck you want. Laughs ensue."
This reads like Charls Caroll's inner monologue in an MDE sketch. Fantastic.
This is sublime “In fact, AI could probably replicate everything you’ve ever written, because there is none of you in there at all.” You ripped Donald a new one.