Transwomen in the Philippines are classified locally as ‘gay’. The specific word used might be ‘bakla’, ‘beki’, ‘bayot’, ‘bading’ or any one of several others, depending on location and dialect.
Note that here, ‘gay’ does not mean what it does in the West. It means you are male but not a man; that you have ‘green blood’. In Luzon, the most popular local term is ‘bakla’. Their lifestyle is called ‘kabaklaan’ and it is centred on theĀ performance of beauty.
I want to update all of you as to what as happened recently. As you may know, Samantha, my long-time partner, my lover and friend, died on the third of October after and illness. Her actual cause of death was severe pulmonary tuberculosis. However this was really a complication of HIV, in which her immune system had been compromised. It was what is commonly known as AIDS.
I was under no illusions. Sam had in fact told me that she was HIV positive in 2017. I was in the airport at Paris Charles de Gaulle with my baggage checked, when she texted me to say she ad just had a test and this was the result. She said that the cause was receiving a tattoo with an unsterilised needle.
Women should not be hairy. Not if they want to attract men, anyway. I mean feminists have fuck all chance of attracting a man anyway, so for them, who cares? But for all other women, being hairy is a real no-no; well, it is if they want a man.
I’ll admit to being averse to hairy. I find it very offputting. Once, years ago, I was dating — in between relationships, having as much fun as possible; and believe me when I tell you, a single man can have a lot of fun in Manila — when I was approached by a femboy. A short-hair bakla, that is. He suggested meeting for coffee at a place near my condo so I couldn’t refuse. Jeff, he was called.
Autogynephilic males are men, or at least males, who suffer from a narcissistic, auto-erotic paraphilia that causes them to be obsessed with their appearance ā but as women.
Autogynephilic males are invariably heterosexual, in fact we might say ‘hyper-heterosexual;’ they are so consumed with lust for the feminine body that they turn themselves into pseudo-women. I have discussed this in great detail on this website and on my YouTube Channel.
Ladyboy bars in Thailand are real gateways to Heaven. They are overspilling with femininity and the girls are all so eager to please. It’s a matter of staying calm long enough to choose the right one — or two. They’re always up for a threesome.
If you don’t know what the inside ofĀ ladyboy bars are really like, then I advise you to correct this with as little delay as possible. I hope this little video will help you visualise the legions of feminine — and available — angels ofĀ loveliness that populate these gateways to heaven..
I found the video below a few years ago and decided to re-edit it to Billy Idol’s ‘Rebel Yell’. It’s an all-time favourite and frankly, is far more in tune with the passionate yelps of a toothsome young ladyboy in bed than the music the video originally had!
You’ll need a ‘guest-friendly’ hotel, if you don’t use one of the ubiquitous short-time hotels which are, by definition, open to customers bringing along a girl or three. Although generally, budget hotels are fine, it’s probably better to avoid those run by farangs. I have to say, with regret, that the only time I’ve ever had any real issues with ladyboys in bars, restos or hotels in southeast Asia, it has been in establishments run by that species of bigoted Australian male who would, frankly, have been better left as a stain on his mother’s bedsheets.
Ladyboys are like hobbits; they have big feet. Although, and fortunately, not usually hairy.
My dearest and truest friend, my distant confidante and beloved adopted sister, Andie, is sitting on the brown vinyl sofa in my rented condo in Pasig. She has delicately hoisted the hem of her long floral skirt with one hand and with the other she is holding one of her slippers — flipflops in Filipino — against her leg.
‘Ugh,’ she says. ‘You see? My feet are longer than half the length of my shin.’
She drops the slipper and the hem and takes to regarding her feet with evident distaste, elbow on knee, chin cupped in her hand. She wiggles her toes.
‘I could possibly cut them off,’ she muses. ‘I should cut them off.’
I am not ashamed to say that I love the Philippines. Nowhere else that I have ever visited manages to capture so much of humanity’s amazing variety. It’s an incredible place and I am so lucky to have found it. This is a selection of pictures from that trip. I’ll let them speak for themselves.
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Pasig River ferries from Maybunga to downtown Manila.
Not many people know about the Pasig River ferries — which are really like floating buses. They’re not very fast but given that Manila road traffic is gridlocked most of the day, the river ferries represent an efficient transport alternative. There are numerous jetties along the river where passengers can alight and the cost was minimal. This journey took just over an hour but I have known the same one take over three in a taxi!
Poor Jelly was suffering. She was recovering from an accident and the seats on the ferries are basic, making her back injury hurt, But as always she just grinned and carried on. Smashing girl.Ā We had a lot of fun.
The Terminus is at Escolta, on the other side of the river from the famous Intramuros, the old walled city. The day was very hot and Jelly was clearly in pain so we took a calesa ride and made like tourists. She had never been to Intramuros before and despite her sore back, really enjoyed herself.
The last ferry back to Pasig was at 1630, because the service only operates in daylight – there are no navigation lights! It was a fine day out though.
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