Meeting the Butterfly

I believe blogs are a superficial representation of a person, intentionally led, fed and digested. And it should be. I am who I say I am and you come to know me as how you've perceived from what little information I've devulged to you.

I'm Mylene. Socialite extraodinaire and soon to be soccer mum. I'm catwalk born yet not plastic enough for FHM cover worthy material. I'm a walking chatterbox tuned to the wrong frequency most of the time.

Last week was the first time I've actually spoken to Butterfly in person. I've seen him around lots, we just never really had a chance to speak. And from the 5mins of conversation with him, I gathered this..

He's almost as pretty as how I've read some other bloggers hyped about him. It's a pity I like my men tall.

I expected him to be alot more arrogant, crude and drunk. He was witty as I'd expected but perhaps I was expecting something more unpolished.

He paid me a compliment by saying I wasn't as dumb as I made myself out to be. That is a compliment, yes?

I always liked his Butterfly persona before he revealed his identity which killed off alot of mystery to his character, but I suppose the real person didn't disappoint either. The guy does have the goods to deliver and I will quote and agree with him on what he replied to a compliment I paid him,

"Anoymity doesn't always turn out as good as this"

I understand why alot of people blog anonymously like me so that we are spared the backlashes of society. For girls, we do it because of the consequences we face. I won't reveal my identity because I love mystery and it keeps a transient image of me. Well, okay, maybe because I'm not entirely confident of my looks.

The guy amazes me for one. He blogs so superficially about everything, bitches better than a girl, glorifies his lifestyle as an asshole and he still keeps me glued to it. What is it with us girls? Are we always doomed to be attracted to assholes?

Butterfly, i'm not saying you ARE an asshole, cos it would'nt be fair now would it? But I believe we all wear a mask to protect something. I think you do too...

This is quite an ego trip for you now I suppose, one whole entry for you. I think you really have to reward me for this. LOL.

Still..

Hi all, sorry that this has trickled down to such an irregular update. God, 14th June was the last I wrote!

Now I assure you I've not become a single mother of sorts. I'm still me, single as ever, still having difficulties parallel parking and slotting cash cards into the machines. Still asking people for directions, still occassionally having my ass groped (and loving it) by hot guys at the clubs.
Still trying very hard to get an orgasm...

I'm really quite pitiful when it comes to dating. Asian men lack alot of confidence, wit and humour. And they are even dumber than me! I'm like, HELLO~, you think being bimbotic is entirely an accident? God made me built for the runway just so that I could use less of my brains!

I really should stop dating Cheena Chings. Chinese ed men are like half a step slower off the blocks than everyone else. I mean, my Mandarin is bad enough but if you are going to be dating me, at least go google on what is 'going dutch'. This guy totally made me want to strangle him with my stockings. Not erotically but like REALLY try to kill him strangle.

He offered to pay for my food and I told him, "it's okay, we go dutch" and that moron said,

"its okay we eat that food next time. I never try before also."

"What?"

"dutch food? you want right?"

HELP ME PLEASE! Why do I always get to meet the dumb men, or the boring one.. or the ones that absolutely kiss badly!

Naughty by Nature 2

Did I leave you all hot are horny? Are you imagining what I had on under my skirt? I'm secretly hoping you do.

Picking up from where I unceremoniously left off and kept you coming back for more. Yes, he did carry me into the toilet, the gents to be precise and I was trembling in excitement and my heart was beating nervously against my push up assisted D cups. Well, I'm in denial, if I had D cups I'm pretty sure my men queue would have circled round my block, twice.

Everything went so fast. The top came off, my skirt was down, my hands were furtively searching for his zipper.. I'd be brutally honest that there is nothing and I mean nothing romantic about a quick convenient shag in the toilet and I'm not even putting hygiene into my marking list.

It's clumpsy. Two half drunks with very little coordination and little interest for foreplay and one cubicle that is even less condusive than it was at the back seat of a particular Honda. He was alternating between trying to pull his pants off and trying to keep his lips on me and I was distracted between getting caught and trying to get naughty.

The toilet flushed. We fucked. It flushes again. I moan... and moan. He switches me over and the toilet flushes again. We're wasting alot of water, yadda yadda yada. He starts kissing the small of my kick and I'm no longer bothered about many many gallons of water is going to waste from my forray into temptresshood.

Gawd! I love to be fucked. WE love to be fucked. 10mins and it went from blatant disregard for privacy to trying to appear decent. We came out like strangers meeting at the lift lobby on our way up to the penthouse.

Now, let's see. Sex in toilets? Checked. One pregnant single mother at mid twenties? Let's hope I won't have to check that.

Naughty by nature pt 1

I've always been coy about being the slut in any game. I'm aggressive but seldom suggestive. I'm open to novelties but I'm very conscious of my image. I am Mylene.

When I heard the guys talk about their sexcapades in public toilets years back, I always felt compelled to label the girl a slut. Sometimes when I'm really depressed about not having regular sex, I'll call the girls village whores. BUT, that is/was 3 years ago cos now I've 'proudly' joined their school of decadence. Hurray!

I still blame it on the martinis, his musky cologne and my careless intimate whisper. I actually said, 'God, I'll so like to fuck you.' I didn't mean it to be blasphemous but he just looked so hot after about 7 glasses. That was totally out of character I assure you. I have never and will probably never EVER dish out such a compliment again.

BUT, I'm glad I did.

Immediately after I said my seven words of sin, I felt his hand roll up under my skirt so I intentionally moved myself closer to him. The man works fast, exactly how I would have loved it, but my self conciousness kicked in right after he grabbed my ass and I instinctively moved away. I may be horny, but I'm not about to let the bar drunks get a free erection off me.

He looked at me suspiciously, his eyes told the symptoms of being blue-balled ( I just learned this term). Or maybe it was the 'you bitch.. you led me on and now you're telling me NO?!' look. Well, they both look the same anyway.

"I need to go to the toilet." I tried to excuse myself.

He grabbed me by my hand and led me off. His grip was firm and I felt my tiny palm rest so comfortingly against his. I followed as he pulled by along with him, my eyes fixated on his shoulders and I realised I was actually grinning. Before i know it, I'm being led out of the club by him.

"Where are we going?"
"You wanted to go to the toilet right?"
"Yes, so why are we out?"

He said nothing, but shot me a cheeky grin as he turned to look at me. All this while he never stopped and one minute I'm by the bar and the next I being led up to the carpark by him. We barely reach the toilet door when he turned to me. I was taken by a pleasant tongue to my ear and next thing I know, he has me pinned to the wall.

Our lips locked as if by spellbound. I was tugging at this hair, scratching across his back and everything else that the spur of the moment was taking me to. I was so immerse into the whole thing I barely realised my skirt was lifted up to my waist.

"Let's go into the toilet.." he whispered......

Mr 'France'

"Zu alone at zer club?"

His French lips close to my ear and his cheeks almost close enough for his brustles to tickle my face. I've a dark confession other than being secretly guilty of wearing more than 4 colours on friday night. I've never had a white dick.

I've the slightest interest to pick up that habit, even when I've heard tons of bedroom purrs from close friends and eavesdropping in the changing rooms. Yet something, ok it was the champagne, that time of the month and his alluring accent that made me decide to play SPG for the night.

"Waiting for my girlfriends, they're in the ladies." I said.

"Zu think zat I can perhaps buy zu a drink? No?"

I looked at him, wondering why he ended with such negativity when he started out with so much more confidence.

"Huh? No? Of course you can!" I was almost guilty of being overtly easy.

I guess he was quite pleased with my answer because he was grinning about it all night.

Judy came back shortly after I was into my first sip of Bellini and i quickly introduced her to my new French prey. She shot me 'That' look like she did when I told her I thought MrD was hot. MrFrench wasn't your run of the mill Prada print model, the ones with insanely chiselled jaw lines and deep set eyes, but I thought he was decently presentable. Judy obviously didn't share my sentiments.

"Are you sure he's French? He doesn't sound too French."

"Of cos he is! He told me he was." I defended.

Judy slided in between as casually as her size 4 frame allowed and before I even finished my she turned back to me.

"He's from Frankfurt." She said,

"Yep, I know."

"Mylene darling, Frankfurt isn't in France..."

Tagged

Wow. Butterfly tagged me. So stealing his favourite punctuated lines, Very.Honoured.

That's the only reason why I'm playing along with this farce.

".....

Tagged!This is what you are supposed to do. Cut and paste if you decide to participate in the tagging game.

Each player of this game starts off by giving 6 weird things about themselves. People who get tagged need to write in a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state the rules clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names.

After you do that, leave them each a comment letting them know you tagged them and to read your blog

....."

1. My left breast is larger than my right. It isn't obvious, but I know imperfect symmetry when I feel one.

2. I never seem to date people who fit into my "Ideal Man". That would be the tall, debonair looks with bronze bodies of Spartan Soldiers. I get alot of geeks, posers and humsup old men.

3. I like kissing girls better than men.

4. I don't see a point in playing Sudoku. Why can't I just insert my own numbers? I don't even like any number from 1 to 9 and I have to fill them up so many times? I like the number 17. It's my birthday and the age I first saw a live dick. Can I include 17 in Sudoku?

5. I have never eaten at Carl's Jr, or Jack's Place or even at a Pizza Hut restaurant. BUT, I've eaten at Morton's, have you? I've also eaten a bull's penis. HAVE YOU?

6. I mis-spelt my name till pri 3 and I always wondered why my teachers kept circling my name on my exercise books.

I don't know who to tag! I think I just killed the game. Readers, pls help?

- Josh
- PL
- Ecstasy
- Judy Baby
- Crimsonwolf

Mr Pint Stripes deux...

I'm back and I hope everyone misses me. I'll pick up where the last escapade left off ermm one month ago?

For the record, Mr Pint Stripes didn't take me home. He did however leave a very good impression and some aftertaste of him in my mouth. I liked how things turned out actually. The flirting the teasing, it takes so much less brain cells. My personnal preferance is usually taking my clothes off because it gets the reaction I want.

My affair with Mr Pint Stripes actually ran on for about 3 weeks. He was the perfect lover for about half that time, you know the breakfast delivery and surprise presents. He was caring, affectionate, smart and he certainly wasn't gay. I certify to that, 10 times at least. But he lost that one element almost immediately after we started dating. He lost that bad boy disposition.

I'm like most girls, we like the good guys, but we secretly love the naughty ones. Which is why my idol is a resident blogging bad boy. Sometimes, we just need someone who absolute humbles us, who gives us shit, who makes us crave.. I'm a girl and I know how girls are suckers for self abuse.

Mr Pints went from hero to pussy in pants. That suave demeanor, the debonair flair he once crumbled me with... gone.. all gone to some whimp who whined constantly about me not spending enough time with him.

GET A LIFE!

I have mine, and it's spelt G-U-C-C-I.

Mr Pint Stripes

I must confess. I forgot my password for blogger. It’s so me.

In literary absence, I’ve been dating. Finally. And probably the effects of reading one too many sex blogs is getting to me. I’m still far from being the village slut, that spot is permanently occupied by Claire.

I believe there is an impetuous flirt residing in my imaginary size 4 dresses. I’ve never really played the role of the coy sex starved kitten well but I make a great asset for wedding toasts.

I finally got hit on by a man with a better pick up than the regular army boys who flock to my champagne breath and padding rewarded cleavage with ‘can I buy you a drink?’. It was his impeccably impish smile, his carefully styled hair and imposing frame that held his pint stripped shirt like it was on mannequin.

His cigarette laced breath fell on me like a charm before insulting my choice of beverage. “Martini? Let me guess, next you’ll be having Sex on the Beach?”. I happen to like my Martini thank you, and I had half the mind to retort with something really witty.

“No.”

I quickly winched at myself. I’m really usually more capable of worthy answer but I’m insanely prone to falling for cute men and martinis. He made a slight frown and I quickly arched myself closer, hoping recapture his attention and prepared myself to buy a drink for redemption.

Another impish grin and I nearly buckled at my knees. My Miu Miu slipped down my shoulders and it stirred another grin from him. I swore if he had continued grinning, my blouse would have fallen off. “So are you going to tell me your name or do I have to get it from you using tequila.” Suave, cocky and very good looking.

I wished I had Agent Provocateur’s wit to save myself or Butterfly’s sharp tongue to twist this around. The other option was the D cup resort but my appointment with the surgeon was still ear-marked for review and he didn’t seem too impressed with my regular B’s.

He immediately inched towards me. “I’m guessing this means tequila.”. I nodded then placed my palm against his arm to keep a distance, only to pull him in closer the next second.

“Make that a Blowjob..”


I’ll continue later, blogging is insanely taxing…

Feminism

Feminism is having the last say in everything.

We live longer than men so naturally is only right we have the last word. No?

It's been awhile since I've let any guy dictate me and the girls are telling me to cut them some slack. Am I intimidating? YES, very if you must know. Nothing my lanky frame can do about it. I'm not worried about being left on the shelf just yet cos men are just there to hinder me from doing what I like.

Shopping. Men never understand why there's a need to have more than 3 bags and complain about having nothing to wear when our wardrobe is packed with clothes. That's cos we women aren't slobs like men and wearing the same clothes twice a month is an inexpiable crime. My only fear is to bump into the same person and wearing what I wore the last time. It makes me feel.. cheap.

I hate how someone makes me dependent on them. Having to call, having to think 'I think he'll like this' everytime I'm shopping. I don't like it one bit. I want to be empowered, domineering even. Maybe i'm a control freak, even in bed. I want them lying down while I lord over them. I'm not the submissive flower you can order to 'bend over'. We can fuck, but on my terms.

Robbie was just illustrating to me why men find prostitutes, because of this notion of dominance and suppression. The greenback has quite role to play in the suppression of women. Are we now just sex dolls for hire? No! I'm going to find a men and treat him entirely like an object. I will tell him when he can and fuck me and we will do it whenever I want to. Yes, he will be my slave and I will pay him minimal wage to do maximum pleasuring.

Bangkok made me realise something. I think I want a boob job. It's alot of maintance but I like I could get used to added attention.

I know why the guys love the local girls there. THEY ARE SOOO PRETTY. Suay mak mak!! Jules also tells me they make the best girlfriends because they're submissive. That's SO against what I'm trying to preach here. I don't understand why men feel threaten when they meet a girl who's vocal and opinionated. I mean, I'm vocal, very if you ask anyone and i'm opinionated but "the right things just don't seem to be coming out".

Yes Jules baby, I know when you guys are poking fun of me ok!

tired.. be back later..

I’m just back from Bangkok, too tired to blog now but the sandwich at my bed side table is beckoning me to go over. I think I will…

Soccer!

I watched the Singapore Vs Thailand match yesterday... at the expense of Japanese cuisine. Not happy at all I tell you.

I didn't even think the watch was good. I mean, there were only 3 goals for the whole hour plus and the referee was giving out so many yellow cards which probably means he's lousy. If I was a referee, I'll be sashaying up the field in knee high boots and Burberry's overcoat. Oh, not to mention brandishing pink cards for all those who misbehave or dirty my footwear.

Back to the match... I watched it ONLY because everyone wanted to and no one was paying attention to my suggestion of doing dessert at Coffee Club. I hate them and I hate soccer. Except for Nakata... he's SO CUTE. Well, I don't see what's all the fuss about Singapore winning cos the goal was like... so not fair.

And why are there so many ang mohs in the team? I thought you're not allowed to field foreigners. No one wanted to entertain me and half the time I thought Singapore was the one in red. Isn't it the Singapore colour? I don't remember our flag having any tinge of blue. Well since we're bending the rules here.. we might as we'll do awaywith primary colours and throw in designs like... the orchid?

I was so pissed at the Thais for walking out. Like.. HELLO! We have a life if you don't. I need the match to get on and end so that we can go have a Mai Tai and gossip about the men trying to hit on us. I can't believe I had to waste like 10 mins of my youth watching silly men protest over some foul and walking out?! Yea.. that's really mature. You can only do that if they don't have shoes in sizes you want.

Which is why I hate watching soccer so much. I mean I don't mind if some cute guy wants me to watch it with him, but just make sure you're well prepared to educate me on the silly offside or outside rule. I don't get that, probably will never cos I don't see what's the fuss about. If they do it, then you can do it.. and that makes it fair.

Anyone wanna try?

Champagned!

SOME ASSHOLE SPILLED CHAMPAGNE ON ME!

Thank you for wet tissues, they are miracle workers for getting me clean. I only don't like it cos it's wet. Well, I was almost desperate enough to clean myself up with pads but I only had tampons with me and cleaning myself with a tampon is going to look ridiculous. What would people think of me!

It's lucky I was having house champagne or i'd have made him lick me up. Oh.. yes he was actually very cute. Silly me to not mention that in my brief affair with anger. The only pity was that he wasn't very tall.. not that I have any issues with short guys.. just as long as they're cute, and they don't spill my drinks.

(I have to say this cos I'm secretly a fan of someone who isnt very tall, but he's widely popular with the people who are reading my blog. *nods* I'm talking about your resident pretty boy of the sex-blogosphere. BF.. his initials should be suffice I think. Ego Boost!)

Yan said that he intentionally spilled my drink so that he could chat us up. I'm like.. that's ridiculous.. men chat women up by offering to buy drinks, not spill them! Silly girl. I mean.. I don't really get men exactly, but most men start chatting me up by asking "how much" and I always wonder why they don't ask the waiters directly on the drink prices.

The girls are always amazed why I'm never offended. But its like.. HELLO.. it's not really their fault if the bars don't place drink menus on the tables.. RIGHT?! How would you even know the price then!?

Clueless again

Blogging is such a chore. I mean its like FREAKIN' tedious stuff. It's already hard enough for me to be typing, but trying to find the 'A' and the 'I' is crazy work especially when I have a new coat of nail polish on.

I took off just to do some afternoon shopping on friday with a purse full of Taka vouchers. It's like shopping for free. Then I met Judith for coffee cos that girl sneaked out of office too and we were drooling over this gorgeous guy at the coffee place. Men!! I can't live without them and my mum doesn't allow me to live with them either. What is a girl to do...

I'm ruining my coat.. so I guess I have to continue this some other time

Mileage?

I don't get cars and I don't understand the fascination over them. Ryan got a new civic and the guys were talking about how far the car travels on a full tank.

"500+"

I was like, 'wah 500+ mins?"

I mean.. sounds logical right for a car to be on the road for 500 mins? It is possible right? But the guys kept giving me stares like I was some moron.

Apparently they were talking about 500+km.. LIKE HOW THE HELL WOULD I KNOW!

Platinium is the new black!

Okay so maybe it's not but I like it!

I painted a fresh new coat today and my nails looks GORGEOUS. I almost can't see my nails camoflauged next to the platinium card so I decided to add petals to it just so my I can still see my nails if its next to something silverish, like that silver cab.

Everything should be platinium, unless its pink then we'll have to see which looks better. I mean, you can't possibly be having be having silver skirts but pink is safe. I really think they should make credit cards pink too and I'll apply for all of them.

OMG.... I actually think pink is the new black! Okay, maybe at least till my platinium coat comes off.

Describe myself?

Josh's friend Ruben asked moi to describe myself and I said, 'I'm a girl who likes to have fun' and they started laughing at me.

I mean like, WHAT IS WRONG WITH IT?

So I asked if he wanted me to describe how I look and I said ' I have long hair, I'm tall and I like to talk alot'.

Well it turns out he was asking me to describe my personality. So I don't see what's wrong with 'likes to have fun'!

Well I should really introduce myself properly to my imaginary blog readership of 1000. I'm 23 and I think a girl should never live without a Hermes Berkins and Agent Provocateur. Neither should you even have less than 23 pairs of shoes and 15 bags because silly boys just waste all their money on cars and soccer betting. I mean it's so stupid when you can't even wear or carry them. Like duh...

I like looking in the mirror too, especially when I have to put my make-up on.

I like my 24 inch waist when I have on jeans made for 30 inches.

I like men who laugh at my jokes because Elaine says they have to be really dumb to do so and we can wrap stupid men round our fingers. Hurray!

New Year's Eve

I can’t imagine how many times I’ve been groped on NYE. Gawd, for crying out loud, that’s a $188 dress if you don’t mind! And my shoes!! It’s one thing if I’m in Reeboks but Marc Jacobs?!

Judith was trying to shield me from the hordes of pervs that tried grinding up behind us, but I was like, “hey, if he’s cute don’t stop him.”.

The guys had a good time laughing cos I suggested painting the Pure Room fuchsia pink but the guys said it defeats the purpose of naming it Pure. I was like, “Who the hell asked them to name it Pure in the first place. I’d have gone with Paris.”

Excuse me, are you a bimbo?

I have no idea why everyone keeps calling me a bimbo. It's like Hello.. I'm like, not even blonde.

I'm starting a blog because everyone else is having one and I get to choose what colours I want my background to be in. I suggested shocking pick with floral weavings but everyone seems to think it's a stupid idea.

I'm currently inspired by a few people.

Sash, who is like the best novellist never to have a book published. She's Singaporean, like me but she has such great stories to tell and she writes it all so beautifully, that she makes wanna take out my pocket rabbit. She's our favourite girl. Yan asked me who I thought was the greatest woman of 2006 and I said Sasha just because she inspired me to use the dictionary.

Butterfly, I think he's a male bimbo but he's just about the funniest read you can find now. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard reading till Josh told me about this. It's awfully sinful to read and just as addictive, so I'll refer to him as chocolates. So he's like Josh's hero and thanks to him, our favourite word now is 'whale'.

BryanBoy, self proclaimed World's Favourite Fag and he has more bags than me! I have a love hate r/s with him now. Unlike the above two, you don't need dictionary.com to read. Hurray!

Meg, naughty school teacher and all. I used to read this quite a bit but the entries aren't as good as they used to be.

Sorry honies no Xiaxue.