Welcome to Hell. Enjoy Your Stay!

Warning: Adult Content
I had been dying to visit the The Kit Kat ever since the very gay Adam told me about it. He went there to go to the Hustlaball.

So when a couple of friends of mine told me that they were going to Berlin, I took the opportunity to arrange a visit. At around this time, Thomas was getting a bit antsy about our sex life, and had begun to cajole me to try a threesome.

"I don't want to do a threesome," I said. "I don't need it, and if ever I do it, I'd like guy-guy-girl, not girl-girl-guy!"

"But c'mon it's really gonna be fun! I mean, I have slept with so few women..."

Aha. So he's looking for a loophole in the fidelity part of I do.

"But I've slept with enough people, I really don't have the need to sleep around any longer. Besides, the mere thought of licking a woman's pussy disgusts me!"

"God, since when have you been so boring?"

What? The temerity of this asshole. I'm the one who's not getting her thrice weekly expected marital obligations, and you call me BORING?!!

I signed us up at Craiglist that very night.

* * *

I did some very thorough research before going into the club. What to expect, and so on. It was "lack and leather" night,so I dropped 100 euros at a sex shop while I was in Berlin for a pleather dress. It's very cute, but it also screams whore.

Thomas was a bit upset when i told him I wanted to go into the club with my visiting friends, so I changed my mind and told him we could go there to look for our "bi curious femme."

Around this time, I also read up on threesomes, the mechanics, how it happens. I read a lot of Savage Love, interviewed people who have participated in threesomes.

We rented a moderately expensive room at a hotel that night in anticipation. I was quite disappointed that Thomas failed to prepare for "the big night." I mean, I was merely curious, he was in search of somebody. He wore his same old business suit.

Saturday. We stand in front of the door, and were required to show what we had underneath our coats. "You know that this is the Kit Kat Club and what it stands for..." said the door bitch.

I unbuttoned my trench. She nodded approvingly. 10 euros, our signature in a sheet of paper titled "Association of Hedonists," and we were in.

The sprawling Kit Kat Club had four bars, so many dance floors, a "couple's room," and a swimming pool, which was closed for that night. Looking at the red lights and the neon flourescent images of fornicating people on the walls, I was reminded of how hell was presented to us in Catholic school.

Everybody's weird fetishes were welcome. And I believe I saw it all. We watched a bondage show. I saw very young, and very cute twinks. A naked, faded hippie with long, gray hair alternately smoked, danced, and masturbated on stage. A handsome young man started dancing, took off his jacket, and revealed a nice set of breasts. A young man in a wheelchair, his emaciated limbs painting day-glo flowers on women's breasts and taking photos of it. A woman who had Dolly Parton ambitions.

All possible sexual permutations, outside of beast-human, were well represented. Man-woman, Dom-Slave, Man-Man, Woman-Woman, Man-Woman-woman, who knows what else.

It was quite apparent who were newbies there. There were a lot of couples who I guess were also looking for their bi curious male or female who seemed weirded out by the sex that surrounded them. I guess when they wanted to fuck somebody else,they didn't contend with the methods that they had to go through to get them. They all stood in the corner, huddled like little bunnies, eyes wide as saucers.

As for me, I enjoyed myself thoroughly. A man and a woman started fucking right before me. To be honest, I was so turned on that I wanted to jump in.

"Kiss me," I ordered Thomas. "Play with my tits." All he could do was oblige me with lukewarm effort. I could see that all this sex was too hardcore for Thomas. He had the bunny look, too. So I pushed Thomas away and continued watching the intertwined couple with fascination reserved for animals in a zoo.

* * *

At the beginning of the night, Thomas and I began scoping the territory for a potential partner.

"How about that blonde?" He asked.

"Naah. Too many teeth."

We both fancied one of the barmaids, a topless Betty Page lookalike in a corset.

So we went back to the chill-out lounge and started discussing our strategy when the blonde sat behind us and lit a joint.

"Is that a joint I smell?" I asked, and started the ball rolling. She was friendly enough, offered to share the joint. She wasn't interested, she said, she had a boyfriend. We looked at her skeptically, and she shrugged. "After all, this is the Kit Kat. Alles kann, nichts muss."

After a couple of hours we still hadn't found anybody. I started getting frustrated. "Look Thomas, if we aren't hitting on anybody, we might as well go home."

"Well, why aren't you hitting on anybody as well?"

"Are you kidding me? I asked her, she wasn't interested. It's your turn now."

"But it's easier for you!"

"Hey buddy, you wanted it, you go get it. I have made everything so easy for you. I arranged for us to go here, I've hit on somebody. You can't expect me to serve up everything for you on a silver platter."

"But you're pressuring me. It's making everything so much harder!" He whined.

The barmaid came into the lounge. She's obviously on break, and is making small talk with the other bartender. "I'm going to the restroom," Thomas said. Wuss, I muttered in my head.

I wanted Thomas to do this himself, but I also wanted to make it easier for him. So I went to the bar and sat next to Ms. Page. She was speaking German to the bartender. I bided my time, ate some of the fruit from the fruit platter, looking at the woman.

Thomas came in, and saw me beside her. Make your move now, my eyes commanded.

Thomas stood between us...and did nothing. The barmaid obviously had a clue, because she told the bartender in English "I'll come an hour after now, during my next break."

She slinked off, and Thomas started to kick himself. "Why am I so chicken?!"

To this day I think that she said that for our benefit, and that she would've accomodated us, if we hadn't sussed out. "Let's go home," I said.

It was already light out when we left.

Thomas and Cathy do the Philippines, Part 2

Landed in Manila, and did the Carlos Celdran Tour. I have been following his blog for sometime now. Most of the things he said were things I already knew, but there were things that I didn't know, and I am all the more grateful for that info. Just knowing how Manila became what it is, in comparison to what it could have been (see: Barcelona), means we can all do something to change it.



Snake Island, our first stop in Palawan, and part of the archipelao out of Honda Bay. Government owned, so we didn't have to pay to stay on the island, although a small donation would be appreciated. You have to pay the boatman 600 to get there, but if you are able to find another tourist willing to split the cost, then it would be a lot cheaper. A boat is able to carry up to 6 people. No amenities, no fresh water, so better bring a bottle of tap water, a tent, and a spade in case you want to do number 2 in the wild. If that's too much for you, hop over to Pandan island nearby, where they have toilets and showers with fresh running water. The photo on the hammock (see January) was taken on Pandan Island.



Looks like a hotel room, doesn't it? We wanted to catch the first bus to Sabang, home of the Underground River. After a futile search for a camping site. (I mean mygulay Thomas, we're in the Ph not in Europe, walang camping site dito!), a kindly furniture maker/vendor who had a stall at the marketplace beside the bus station offered us a wooden bed in his stall. In exchange, I guess, for us manning his shop for the night. Robbers are wary when they see people sleeping in the shop. We were woken promptly the next day at 6 am by the squealing of pigs from a slaughterhouse 100 meters away. Fun.



The bus turned out to be this giant monster all-terrain jeepney, which was packed to the brim, complete with people on top. So full, that this guy was standing on the hood of the jeepney. I have had the fortune of riding on top of a jeepney twice! It's like being on a roller coaster! The terrain going to Sabang, where the Underground River is, was very rocky, to say the least. It made me think of an old brake fluid commercial of the Sex Bomb dancers: "Laban Laban! o Bawi Bawi!"



Entrance to the Underground river. Beauty Pageant ang dating, Odiva?



Me facing The Bayawak. I think this is the Philippine Komodo Dragon? Anyway, I can't imagine anybody eating such a creature, although people assure me its meat is delicious.



Mama Macaque with Baby Macaque. Be careful, she might steal your glasses! She has a special fondness for handbags, I've heard.



I remember seeing several of these when I was a kid in Cavite. Now that Cavite has become a suburb of Manila, and I hope that this sight won't become extinct on our islands.



Falls near Sabang. A very rocky two kilometer hike to get there from the main beach. I wouldn't say that the falls were woth the hike, but the rocks are good way to train and test for balance. There is a Chinese temple nearby, where people give donation for "maintenance." I imagine that a lot of wannabe kung-fu artists train here.



The thick jungles of Sabang. I came up with the brilliant idea to climb Mount Apo, an idea that burned so bright in Thomas' head, so we decided to hire a guide to trek the jungle in preparation. Hungry mosquitoes fed on my legs despite mosquito lotion, and I was a bit scared that I was going to come down with Malaria. Although northern Palawan is malaria-free, you never know.

If you want to try trekking that jungle, bring a good hat, a machete and extra clothes. You think of rattan, all nice and beautiful, the stuff your wicker chair is made of. In the jungle, rattan is nasty, its bark covered with big, dangerous needles that pierce your forehead if you're not careful. Filipinos think of Pandan as that nice leaf you put into your rice for flavoring. In reality, Pandan is a spiky monster. Better bring your hat.



This was our destination, the source of the Underground River, called the Daylight Hole. See that rise? I climbed that with only flip-flops on!



Where we were.



After a dusty seven-hour jeepney ride, we reached Paradise. In between San Vicente and Port Barton. Too bad that speculators got there first, and somebody is going to build a resort out of paradise.



Our tent, facing Port Barton beach.



The biggest pothole in history. Our jeepney barely made it through. Note the man walking on the road.



Our next stop after Palawan was Cebu, where we caught this Cessna bound for Camiguin. Thomas took a picture of the plane because he didn't believe me when I told him that was our plane after I saw it land on the runway. Not until the last minute. This is akin to Thomas saying "Takot ako!"



The hardest climb I've undertaken: Mt. Hibok-Hibok on Camiguin. the terrain was rocky, and the rain made everything so slick. We also didn't get a good view of the island because of the rain.



Note the names of the island's governor, congressman, and mayor on this billboard in Camiguin. And the mango-carrying Santa!



This is the life: Ardent Hot Springs, Camiguin.



Sunken Cemetry off Camiguin. This used to be a part of the island when Mt. Hibok-Hibok erupted in the 1870s, and the seismic forces drowned this part of the island. A white cross marks where the cemetery used to be. Snorkeling is great fun, and a bit eerie, seeing how the coral has overrun the graves, exposing their interiors. It's like visiting a normal cemetery. I was reflecting on the lives of these people as the colorful clownfish passed by. I think it is a good idea to be buried underwater and have the coral grow over you. Kind of like the people who want to be buried under trees, their bodies to be used as fertilizer after they pass on. Very ecological, doncha think?



After Camiguin, we took the ferry to Butuan and took the bus to Davao, and went to the Agusan Marsh, where Thomas hoped that we could get a glimpse of crocs in the wild. We couldn't find a campsite. This being Mindanao, there was a general fear among the people for our safety. It isn't unusual to see people carrying high-powered weapons here. We were first holed up in a place that had the temerity to call itself an inn, when we contacted some military people we met, who let us graciously stay in their compound. They were puzzled by the idea that people would want to stay in a tent.



A basketball court in the middle of the Marsh.



This is the habal habal, or Skylab, in honor of the satellite look-alike. I have a very nasty burn scar now just above my right ankle when a habal-habal I took tipped over and the exhaust pipe touched my skin. Transportation being tight and roads being decrepit, this is the method of transportation in many islands. This baby can sit 10 people.



We then moved on to Davao and climbed Mt. Apo



If I would move back to the PH, I would probably choose to live in Davao or Cebu. Can you imagine having a beach within city limits with crystal clear waters? Samal Island, Davao.



Had a small farewell party afterwards. A nice way to end a vacation.