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Sunday, September 08, 2019

Sanggano, Sanggago't Sanggwapo, or the booby boobilicious boobations of three boobs

Sanggano watched as his girlfriend entered the room. The buxom woman's breasts bobbed and swayed like a heavyweight boxer, mounds of pudding-like soft sensual flesh with minds of their own. Against her t-shirt her nipples jutted out like the rivets of the HMS Titanic, beckoning him to have a taste. She was easily the age of his hot daughter/s, something that would have turned off a whole lot of people, but May December romances were a thing and he wanted to get in that action, so her age didn't bother him at all. Also he's not really into incest. 

His whole existence was an enigma. For a guy named "Sanggano," there was nothing remotely gangstery about him. He knew that it was a callback to an earlier film called Sanggano't Sanggago (2001) which doesn't have anything in common with this film except for the fact that they share the same director and a few cast members. Logic dictates that he should have at least a good personality, but that's not the case. Looks aren't always the end all be all in relationships, but his look was reminiscent of that one uncle you had who wore khaki shorts two sizes too small, wore a baseball cap backwards because he thought it made him look cool, and made crude jokes. In reality, Sanggano knew that he was punching way above his weight class. No self respecting woman would throw themselves at him unless he was loaded, but in this universe, Sanggano knew the gods were on his side. In fact, this babe warmed up on him after an awkward conversation where he compared her to a horse. Just like in porn, after that meaty exchange she was ready to fuck in 0.068 seconds.

Sanggano looked at his girlfriend in the eyes as she straddled him. Her voluptuous breasts jiggled in his face like a pair of pendulous grapefruits. She was totally stacked - stacked like a pile of Jengas, like a cheater's poker hand as he's betting 2 mil. "Let the slurping commence," he said.

*

Sanggago stared at the sky as the girl in front of him rode him like a cowboy, her vagina voraciously gorging on his dick like Takeru Kobayashi eating hotdogs at the World Eating Championships. Sure, the woman banging him had degrees and maybe even a distinguished academic career as a plant pathologist, but to him she was just a vagina with a body attached to it - he didn't really care. Besides, he'd already banged a veterinarian, so he was getting a health and science theme going. Her bubble-like ass bobbed up and down like the bubbles in milk tea, while her ample breasts breastily bounced like a Harlem Globetrotter's exhibition performance.

Unlike his other two friends, Sanggago is actually (kinda) loaded and he is at least handsome, so at least he had something going for him. He actually has the hots for this engineer chick, but she's been playing hard to get. Obviously her irritated attempts to rebuff him were only a front - he knew she REALLY wanted him deep inside, in more ways than one. Haha, he thought, that was a funny joke.

He'd scored this plant scientist chick and the veterinarian by just existing, which is perfectly reasonable in this universe. Even if he's pushing 50, it's a given that all the girls, regardless of intellectual level, want his rock hard cock, and that was how things went here. Maybe if he'd get a little more assertive with the engineer chick he'd get a taste of that hot sexy body too.

*

Sanggwapo stared in shock at the nude girl sleeping beside him. He'd agreed to be the kagemusha for Sanggago but he didn't expect women left and right would be trying to get in his pants. He didn't want beautiful women! After all, he's just a middle aged guy, a 4.5/10 at best, who made a hit single about how it's preferable to choose ugly girls. As a person with absolutely no legal authority to sign off the deed of the land of his friend, he was keen to sign it off anyway, because reasons. He didn't know either; after all, he was just a fictional character.

A woman will try to seduce him later, he knew, and he'd have to refuse her services. She'd no doubt be thankful that he, a man, gave her that validation. 

He knew that her character will be killed by the scriptwriter for asserting herself in such an unbecoming way later on, but that's how the cookie crumbles. Besides, there was no shortage of very young, sexy girls here that would dive at the chance to score his out of shape, beer bellied fifty year old body.

*

John Tawasil sighed, like any pretentious self important movie watcher typing in the third person would. He'd been in the movie theater for a while, and the AC was broken. He adjusted his moobs, undulant lumps of flesh bouncing like leche flan during the 1990 Baguio earthquake, and wiped off some undermoob sweat. He wondered how it would feel like to lick his own boobs, but that wasn't the only thing he was wondering about. "How in the world could a 2001 film be LESS offensive towards women than its 2019 namesake?" he asked himself. "Why didn't the filmmakers use the comedic talents of Eddie Garcia instead?" He conceded that the film did make him chuckle in a few parts, but way better examples of irreverent humor exist out there. He didn't like the film, and this is coming from a guy who thinks that sometimes prudes should leave decent sex comedies alone.

But then he noticed something. Two things, in fact.

First, this is fantasy wish fulfillment for middle aged old men, that somehow their old, bloated, fat, rotting bodies are still desirable to younger women even though they do not have the money or charisma to attract them; that somehow they can hold their own in a martial arts fight with hardened thugs; that they are actually as charming and cool and suave and funny as they think they are. This is a film by dinosaurs for dinosaurs.

Second: the audience was laughing along with the jokes, and there were lots of people in attendance. And this, more than anything in this completely mediocre film, disturbed him the most. To all the people saying that "it's 2019, the existence of this film is no longer justified, times have changed," they HAVE changed, but not as much as one'd think. Makers of media may have moved on from crass, sexist humor, but apparently people's tastes haven't caught on, or they haven't realized exactly WHY the rest of the world has moved on. To many audience members around the country, this sort of humor is perfectly acceptable (even when it shouldn't be), and this film is just a function of supply meeting demand.

And to the people out there who know better, he wanted to say this: if you (and I) really want audiences to understand the reasoning behind paradigm shifts away from "problematic" concepts like the ones embodied by this film, perhaps take a more active role in enlightening people why these things are wrong, because sometimes people honestly don't understand why they should change their  way of thinking. It's not about the waking, it's all about the rising.

But then again, he was just one guy with an opinion and sweaty boobs.

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