Sunday, November 30

Hello There

You know Wolverine is a stocky, hairy, chain-smoking 5'3 X-man, right? Hollywood doesn't think so because Hugh Jackman is the guy who plays dear Logan on the silver screen. I initially protested this total bullshizz, because I'm a purist, the same way I protested Daniel Craig being a blonde Bond. And then I took a good look at the screen and all sound and fury faded away... sometimes, I'm easy like that.


What would I do without Miss Fritz, work's busiest queen of spam? Every now and then he sends something that just refuses to be ignored.

Too much time on your hands + deep suspicion that the matinee idols of the Philippines are very very gay = this:

Hahahah! This is what you get when you introduce Photoshop to the Philippines. We will immediately begin to eviscerate everything in sight.

Bonus homo-points if you actually get what they mean by throwing in "Mang Jupiter".

(Click on the pictures for a larger version).

Monday, November 24


With all the latest hullaballoo over Twilight, how could this have been completely overlooked? This is looking good. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is my favorite in the entire series, so they better not eff this up or I'll throw my popcorn at the screen. Can't wait for July to happen.

Sunday, November 23

Combat Boots and Literatura

Congratulate me! I now own a pair of black, knee-high combat BlackNoire boots. No, I don't know when I'm ever going to wear them. They're the kind of Avril Lavigne-esque footwear you'd wear with a pink/black goth-punk outfit, or an extremely short schoolgirl skirt with a white shirt and tiny vest. Alex says they're not age-inappropriate, but I do have a feeling I'm skimming the line somehow. Still, a sale's a sale. And it helped give me a better Sunday than I usually have.

I've also gone on a book-bender and now have two books: Philippa Gregory's The Constant Princess, which is the tale of the great Queen Katherine of Aragon - famously displaced by Anne Boleyn, the most infamous homewrecker of her time. It's probably the prequel to The Other Boleyn Girl, as it's by the same author. I haven't read it yet, I'm just starting on my other acquisition: Down and Dirty Pictures - Miramax, Sundance and the Rise of Independent Film. So far it's pretty interesting (I'm only in Chapter 1!). Will post more excerpts later.

Am not very sure where all this blatant consumerism has led me, and have taken to wondering if it's my way of getting over my latest birthday. The last time I formally celebrated a birthday was when I was thirteen. Formally means guests were invited, I had a cake specially made for my day and my mom made spaghetti and invited the Sumalinog man to come over and scoop ice cream for all of us. I eschewed the notion of all parties since, deeming myself "grown up".

It's ironic how we can't wait to grow up, and when we do, we wish we hadn't. Now that I'm older, I find I want to be twelve again. Have someone make a cake for me, sing a song, invite people. Do the whole spaghetti and lechon thing. It gets lonely being away from my family, and it sucks that my birthday had to fall on a work day. One should never have to work on one's birthday.

Still it was surprisingly lovely, and I got a number of good wishes and greetings, for which I am quite grateful for. The trainers (Ellice) bought me a tiramisu cake, which Darwin wouldn't touch ("I'll never buy cake for anyone again," Ellice grumbled) and we had a nice old time talking about things adults do to one another (gee thanks, Chrizzy). My "kids" sang me a song and we all had ice cream for lunch, so as a whole it made me feel better.

It just reinforced my latest realization that at the end of the day, it's the people who matter who'll be there for you. I also got greetings from around the world, which was really quite touching. It's nice to feel cared about, si?

Witty, Somber and Fun

There's always been something about Brit humor that appeals to me. It's quick, at times sarcastic, sometimes droll, and ultimately enough to make me roll on the floor laughing hysterically.

I have a new favorite movie - very 1994 of me, really - and it's British. Four Weddings and a Funeral, starring the always affable Hugh Grant who delivers wry little statements perfectly in whatever movie he plays. He's helped along by a very able ensemble cast who all have their little quirks but share a common bond: none of them are married, and all of them are good friends. They're married to each other, but they see so many others getting married, and it starts to chafe. They then start wondering if they'll ever have their own happy ending. They have hopes, yes:

A toast before we go into battle. True love. In whatever shape or form it may come. May we all in our dotage be proud to say, "I was adored once too."

Mostly they bitch at people in weddings.

Oh, isn't she lovely!

Don't be ridiculous, Scarlett, she looks like a big meringue.

Directed by Mike Newell (Mona Lisa Smile) and written by Richard Curtis (Love, Actually), it's a gem I'm so happy to have discovered. It's a great movie - wonderful dialogue, touches of whimsy, a very emotional speech. It's like us at weddings: judgmental, emotional, full of self-doubt. I shed a few tears, but mostly developed a temporary six-pack from laughing so hard. Better late than never, I always say. And now for a proper touch of nostalgia, I present:

Love is all around - Wet Wet Wet

Saturday, November 22


I'm trying to blog but I can't concentrate because the girl beside me has the worst possible breath on earth. Smells worse than a canal, it's giving me a headache. The only time I have some peace is when she shuts her mouth, which is rare because she's too busy giggling and laughing at whatever it is she's looking at.

So how does one actually tell someone else that her breath is the bane of humanity? Her boyfriend must really love her. I entertained a two-minute fantasy of turning to her and asking her not to breathe. I couldn't do it. I'm a coward. Sob.

Not too happy about this latest development. I only get to blog every so often because work has me tied up and I (still!) haven't adopted a laptop, so weekends are pretty much it for me these days. God, I'm so tired of internet cafes. They're veritable havens of filth sometimes. If it isn't some aged 50 year old wannabe mail-order-bride pointing a webcam down her saggy cleavage, it's this.

I think this is a sign. I need to get on the wireless bandwagon and stop torturing myself.

Thursday, November 20

Seriously Lying

It's that time of the year again - and yes, lying about my age is becoming more habit than inclination. I have days when I actually don't remember my real age. Which is good. I think.

Was planning to blog on about it, but don't quite have the time - I'm hopelessly busy whenever I have class. So, I would like to thank everyone who greeted me. I was touched that a number of you remembered. Much love to you all!

Sunday, November 16

The Concerned Consumer

Choices, choices. It seems like only yesterday I was salivating over the Asus EEE. This was a short-lived love affair that didn't stand the test of time. I came to my senses and realized the EEE just couldn't cut it, I felt like a child when I did the Nikka Test™ on it. Too small. And by the way it's a good thing I didn't buy it then, because what was about Php16,000 is now Php9,999. Poor thing is getting kicked to the curb.

With new models popping up every which way it's a veritable gadget buffet out there. It's getting harder and harder to just find a model and settle down. One needs a connoisseur, someone who can read specs and not go loopy (the way I do - I know, it's pathetic). So I dragged Ramon with me yesterday for a little expert advice.

Has anyone ever heard of Lenovo? Or MSI? Is it snobbery to want a laptop that with good name-brand recall?

Yes, I think buying a laptop is like getting married. I don't intend to just throw one away the moment I get bored with it. It's still good money, and the idea of disrespecting the hard work that goes into earning the money sticks in my craw. (Ellice, Paulie and Darwin are rolling their eyeballs at me right now, I can feel it). So, yes. I want something I can live with for maybe the next 3-4 years, or more.

I have my eye on a number of brands right now, and will need to think this over. I'm obsessed, like that. And I think I may name it Asphodel.

We Won!


Here's a couple of homies just rollin along, having fun with slurpees and stuff. No, wait! This is the Democratic party a few hours after Obama's speech in Grant Park, Chicago.

Here's to a new America! Change has come.

Because We Only Have One

Why do we never have commercials like this?

Everything here is boring, spoon-fed caca compared to the ad above. Brava, Australia.

Sunday, November 9

Remember When?

Got this from an e-mail, and just thought I'd share. Spoiler alert: non-native Cebuano speakers may not be able to relate. You've been warned.

(For the ones born in the 50's, 60's, 70's and early 80's)

First, some of us survived being born to mothers who did not have an OB-Gyne and drank San Miguel Beer while they carried us. While pregnant, they took cold or cough medicine, ate linunod, balikutsa, bukhayo and didn't worry about diabetes.

Then after all that trauma, our baby cribs were made of hard wood covered with lead-based paints, ang uban kay duyan nga habol gihigtan ug pisi nga inigtabyog ug kusog ma pakong intawon ta sa bongbong.

We had no soft cushy cribs that play music, no disposable diapers (lampin lang sa General Milling nga naa'y faded picture nga nag-salute), and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, no kneepads, wala pa gyu'y break ang bisikleta.

As children, we would ride in hot un-airconditioned buses with wooden seats (Bisaya Bus nga pultahan puros ang kilid, Corominas Bus nga senimana ang brake), or cars with no airconditioning & no seat belts (karon kay Minibus na nga nindot kaayo ug sounds or Ceres Bus nga bugnaw ug aircon).

Riding on the back of a carabao on a breezy summer day was considered a treat. (karon; ang mga bata wala na kaila ug kalabaw.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT bottled mineral water sa Nature Spring or Viva, or Absolute Mineral water (usahay gani, straight from the faucet or poso or Tabay!)

We shared one soft drink bottle with four of our friends, and NO ONE actually died from this. Or contacted hepatitis.

We ate rice with star margarine, bahaw nga gibutangan ug asin ug mantika sa baboy, drank raw eggs straight from the shell, and drank sofdrinks with real sugar in it (dili diet coke or Pepsi Max), but we weren't sick or overweight kay......


We would leave home in the morning and play all day, and get back when the streetlights came on. Syatong, Bato-Lata, Bagol, Dakop-Dakop, Tago-Tago, Ngita'g Kaka.

No one was able to reach us all day ( wala pa'y uso ang cellphone) . And yes, we were O.K.

We would spend hours building our wooden trolleys (katong bearing ang ligid) or Karitong Kawayan nga karaang tsinilas ang giporma nga ligid and then ride down the street , wala ma'y gidungog nga naligsan atoh! After hitting the sidewalk or falling into a canal (sewage channel) a few times, we learned to solve the problem ourselves with our bare & dirty hands.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 100 channels on cable, no DVD movies, no surround stereo, no IPOD's, no cell phones, no computers, no Internet, no chat rooms, and no Friendsters. ........ ...WE HAD REAL FRIENDS and we went outside to actually talk and play with them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no stupid lawsuits from these accidents. The only rubbing we get is from our friends with the words..sakit bai ? pero kung kontra gani nimo ang imong kadula... singgitan lang dayon ug..Mayra,Gabaan!

We played marbles (jolen) in the dirt , washed our hands just a little and ate Pan Bahug-bahug & Bagumbayan (recycled bread man diay to kay wala mahalin!) We were not afraid of getting germs in our stomachs.

We had to live with homemade guns (giporma nga kahoy, gihigtan ug garter ug lastiko) , saplong , tirador ug uban pa nga pwedeng magkasakitay. Pero lingaw gihapon kaayo ang tanan. We made up games with sticks ( syatong ), and cans ( Bato-Lata )and although we were told they were dangerous, wala man gyud to'y actual nga nabuta bah, bukol lang nuon sa agtang naa.

We walked, rode bikes, or took tricycles to a friend's house and knocked on the door or batoon ug gagmay nga bato ang bungbong, or just yelled for them to jump out the window!

Mini basketball teams had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't pass had to learn to deal with the disappointment. Wala pa nang mga childhood depression ug damaged self esteem ek-ek ra na. Ang maglagot, pildi.

Ang mga Ginikanan naa ra sa daplin para motan-aw ra sa duwa sa mga bata, dili para manghilabot ug makig-away sa ubang parents.

That generation of ours has produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers, creative thinkers and successful professionals ever! They are the CEO's, Engineers, Doctors and Military Generals of today.

The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.

We had failure, success, and responsibility. We learned from our mistakes the hard way.

You might want to share this with others who've had the luck to grow up as real kids. We were lucky indeed. And if you like, forward it to your kids too, so they will know how brave their parents were.

It kind of makes you wanna go out and climb a tree, doesn't it?!


The fact that I can actually relate to some of this gives me a warm, happy feeling. And then I end up hating time for never stopping. Oh and I was aces at piko and chinese garter, thankyouverymuch.

Thursday, November 6

I Have A Dream (Remix)

Obama won!

I was literally glued to the boob tube yesterday, flipping madly between BBC and CNN - the polls, the pundits, the bitchfests. It feels almost too tired to even say it, but it was history in the making (they kept saying that).

I know it really was an historic event - first African-American in office - it felt strange to actually witness it. I was happy to be there to witness it live and in full color. I approved of McCain's concesion speech. To my mind, it was gracious and on point and actually a shade better than Obama's acceptance speech.

Was this how everyone felt during MLK's "I have a dream" speech? How can it be history when it's present-day? We could be preempting something. He was strangely grim. Almost as if something was weighing him down.

Happy it was Obama, though. Michelle Obama is still my hero. What happens to America will remain to be seen. Blingin' up the US of A, yo. Pimps n' Hoes. Bruthaz from otha muthaz. Giggle. I know, I know. It's not going to happen, the man is obviously educated, on target, the farthest thing from a hoodrat and his wife is not a shawty.

As for now, I'm riding the wave of euphoria.

Sunday, November 2

All About Bajiggle

One last video for today, I promise! I promise. YouTube has its claws in me and won't let go. Anyway.

Presenting one of the choicest cuts of Tropic Thunder: Alpa Chino's Booty Sweat clip. It gave me defined abs for five minutes, I was laughing so hard.

This is a true homage to our current love of tits and ass in all music videos. Seriously, all music videos look the same now. Throw in a couple of siliconed cleavage and butt implants and you've got a music video. This used to be an art form. Now it's just condoned porn.

And Then He Bites Her

In keeping with my latest tradition of reading the book before watching the movie, I have currently finished horking up Twilight. Yes, the young adult novel by Stephenie Meyer that ostensibly took the reading public by storm in 2005. I know, was I under a rock in 2005? Why didn't I know about this? I've only just finished the first? Leave me alone.

So, I finished it in three hours. Then I put it down and started wishing the heroine was in front of me so I could slap her for being so incredibly silly.

I thought the whole premise was great, but the fact that the main heroine is 17 didn't sit well with me. What does anyone know about love in the time of cholera when one's 17? I can relate to wanting to be 17 forever. I can't relate to being sure about matters of the heart at that age. Yeah, maybe I'm the shallow one, whatever. I still don't see a 17-year-old making all the decisions the heroine does in the story.

I had definite pictures of the characters in my head, and now I'm wondering why they made Edward look like this in the movie:

He looks like he got attacked by two Ever Bilena salesladies. He probably also fell into a vat of Bench/Fix products while making his escape. This is not the Edward I had in mind. I'd rather take the shorter-haired brunette vampire. Anyway. Overall a light read, frothy fun and romantic walks in rain-wet forests, etc etc - it's like the love child of Sweet Valley High and R.L. Stine's Fear Street put together.

Now Playing

Keeps Gettin Better - Christina Aguilera

Here's Xtina using a tube of pink lipstick with Keeps Getting Better. I'm not too sure what the video is about, but I'm going with the idea of picking her Halloween costume. Or something. Videos these days just don't make sense anymore.

The Catwoman thing freaks me out, and it's all pseudo-Colin Farrell in Minority Report, but I like the song and I feel like posting videos out the wazoo, so here you go.

But Will We Like It?

I've always favored Dan Brown's Angels and Demons over The Da Vinci Code. I wanted a refund after seeing the movie they made out of the latter book. The bad news is, Tom Hanks still plays Robert Langdon in the movie. I hope they don't murder this one.