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.
Friday, 10 August 2007
Tuesday, 31 July 2007
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!
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!
Thursday, 14 June 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, 5 June 2007
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......
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......
Tuesday, 22 May 2007
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..."
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..."
Tuesday, 8 May 2007
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
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
Monday, 30 April 2007
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.
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.
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