Kristianity

Since being stupid has become a fad...

2009-11-26T10:43:00.009+08:00

...I've decided to stop blogging.... or, go into a hiatus, whatever.

Meanwhile I've created a personal little blog completely devoid of any intellectual content whatsoever and purely dedicated to the mundaneness of my everyday life.

Yes, I've migrated HERE!

But for those of you who can't help but express hatred for me, there's a website wherein you could do that.

Sometimes I get published in a local newspaper, if you're diligent enough you'll find my archive. Here's an example

I will miss all your inappropriate comments. And even if more often than not I come off a little too bitchy, and condescending, and conniving, and insensitive, and harsh, and inconsiderate and all the other adjectives that your momma teaches you not to be, I've always loved all of you; haters and fans alike.

Til my next bashing.

xoxo

Kristianity

Kwentong Politiko

2009-09-10T12:56:00.004+08:00

Yesterday, Noynoy Aquino announced his bid for Presidency in the upcoming 2010 elections.

Yesterday, I got myself 3 barf bags in the supermarket.

I've just received word that everything Mar Roxas has done were all political stunts to guarantee him the office. That sneaky, sneaky little bastard. Walking away from his presidential dream? Proposing on TV with tears in his eyes? Cussing in front of thousands? Learning how to ride a bike? THAT-CONNIVING-SCHMUCK!

My sources (yes, plural. Two different people have told me this) tell me that the Liberal Party created this whole ruse to create a fuss, make everybody believe that Mar Roxas is some sort of hero and ultimately garner enough votes to win the Presidency. And although no confirmation has been made yet proving that the LP is, indeed, only staging the whole Roxas-dropping-out drama, it is in my nature to have faith in conspiracies.

We see right through those bespectacled eyes and that overused blue shirt of yours, Palengke boy. My minions and I are still in the process of evaluating as to whether or not we are in opposition or in full support of your pursuit.

On one hand, we don't want a lying dingbat running our country, but on the other hand, all of them are lying dingbats so what's there to lose? But on yet another hand (which makes it three hands therefore I am a mutant), maybe he is EXACTLY what we need. A clever little con-artist who could act his way out of everything. If he discovers how to properly exploit his skills in acting, it may just be the solution to our national problem.

Think about it, if he can act his way into presidency, imagine how easy it would be for him to create a dramatic ploy to lift the country from the national debt.

But hey, just like all the former presidents, Mar Roxas and practically everybody else. what do I know about politics?

UPDATE:

FALSE. ALL FALSE! See what happens when you let your guard down and let oversentimental Pol Sci majors brainwash you!? I really shouldn't have listened to those nitwits. I knew something was up when they tried to bribe me with candy.

Take a peek into your future

2009-09-08T23:48:00.006+08:00

I was in the middle of writing a pseudo-political post when I came across something that trumps every pressing, politically relevant issue today.

This, my brethren, will be your comeuppance if you continue to patronize this wretched show.

Here's to your future. Enjoy.

I shall post my supposed entry for today, tomorrow.

You can tell the pope the bitch is back

2009-09-07T22:50:00.009+08:00

I admit, I have had sneaky ideas of permanently shutting this blasted blog. I haven't posted anything in months. I refuse to be one of those pretentious bloggers who use busyness or preoccupation as their scapegoats. Admittedly I have been busy but the real reason why I stopped blogging was because I ran out of ideas; no pretensions, no lies. You read that right minions, your king has gone stupid.

But now I think, THINK, that I'm back to being my fabulous self, booming with politically inappropriate opinions that send middle-aged housewives reaching for their phones and calling my mother to complain.

After stumbling across numerous blogs that yak relentlessly about idealism, I decided to start blogging again. I can almost hear a hallelujah chorus from the great beyond.

It’s funny how it took me 12 stops at the restroom and 3 toothbrushes (I just realized I’ve never heard anyone use toothbrush in the plural form) to realize how much the blogging community needs me. Without me, all you’d read about are comments about how important family is, about finding the path to happiness, about how romance is the cure for psychosis. JESUS! You people make me want to flush my own head in the toilet.

Just this evening I read about how studying could be a diversion to social problems and that when faced with a problem you just stand back and hope for things to get better. EF THAT! To whoever wrote it, I’m sorry but you so desperately need to get laid. WAKE UP SLIM!

See here’s what I realized: The more you try to convince yourselves that the world is such a happy place to be, the closer you get to dementia. This is not to say that I think the world is all gloom and doom(although it partly is), it is to tell all of you that the world is a bloody battlefield filled with severed limbs and cadavers------you get all wide-eyed and idealistic and your head gets blown off.

It’s every man on his own; don’t let your soft side assume your fighting stance. You go out there guns blazing and C5’s at the ready. Understand? No more slushy, puke-inducing, “I can make it through the rain” drama. Don’t just make it through the rain, KILL THOSE WHO BROUGHT YOU THE RAIN. Now let me see those daggers.

God it’s like I never taught you anything.

Told you so.

2009-05-21T19:23:00.002+08:00

See what happens when I stop talking about myself? I stop writing altogether. I've been focusing my attention on my other supercoolsecret blog that I end up disregarding this one.

In my secret blog I get to yak about myself nonstop without worrying what you androids would think. The unmitigated freedom in my other blog is too much for me to just ignore. SO if I had to neglect one blog we know what it'd be.

But don't worry I'll come up with something soon. Just keep checking for updates, k? Give me a minute.

Response

2009-05-19T20:45:00.003+08:00

Dear FAnboyNoMore,

GO TO HELL!

Love,
Jolens

A letter.

2009-05-17T17:16:00.005+08:00

Dear Jolens,

I don't know how to start this letter, I am far too intimidated to have my brains function normally. I am your biggest fan. Your store(Jolina's Fashion Gallery) stood right next to the place where I buy tasty bread when I was little.

I saw you one rainy day through a foggy mirror, even waved at you but you didn't wave back. I gathered you didn't see me, although I could've sworn I saw you lay eyes on me for a split-second, cringed then looked away. But no,maybe you didn't see me.

Since that fateful encounter, I made it a daily habit to monitor your shop for any sign of your presence as I eat my tasty bread. Minimal blinking hurt my eyes but it was ok. At that time I was willing to light myself on fire for you, your highness.

Everytime I was sad, I would just sing your song from the movie "Ang Ibong Adarna"

I could still remember the lyrics...

"Hintayin mo lang ang pagtila ng ulaaaaan "

I would sing it with tears in my eyes.

ahhh, those were the days.

But now that I've conjured up enough courage to write you, let me just say;

You suck.

First you chop your hair off. Actually, no. that's all there is to it. You suck because you cut your hair and transferred networks. Then you pass yourself off as a trend-setter. I'm sorry you are not--at least not anymore. You've become one of the Medusas of showbiz who think they're better than everybody. Although you probably already were a monstrous figure, the difference is that now it's more obvious. You lost your appeal. You ceased to inspire. You're not that girl anymore;

The girl who invented those colorful realistic flapping butterfly hairclips; the girl who encouraged little girls(and sometimes little boys) that it's ok to have your bangs cut in a perfectly horizontal manner. the intricate details of your hair which sparkles when it catches the light are now all gone.You're not Jolens anymore. You're--ughck--Jolina : Sad-insipid-oafish-little-sell-out Jolina.

Pray to the lord that when I see you in public, I don't have my sword with me. You are a menace to show business.

Drop dead.

Love,
FanboyNoMOre

...to be continued.

The flannel-wearing menace

2009-05-09T12:56:00.013+08:00

I have three frustrations in life: to become an agent of the Matrix, an Xmen and a Marvel superhero. Although I gave up on the latter because spandex causes my thighs to chafe and there are just too many punchlines on that one.

Anyway where was I? Yes, frustrations. I am reminded of one because I recently watched Xmen Origins: Wolverine. I know, I know, I was the last person who saw, take your comments elsewhere.

Thoughts:

WOLVERINE AND SABRETOOTH WERE BROTHERS???!

Tip to editors of the movie: take a refresher course in special effects. Subject me to crummy editing again and you will get yours.

You want to admire Hugh Jackman's fighting maneuvers but you keep getting flashes of him dancing during the Oscars.

Ryan Reynolds just regained the hot points he lost in Just Friends.

You are stunned by the striking resemblance of Taylor Kitsch and a younger Johnny Depp. People don't agree. You go on a killing rampage.

When you find yourself remotely petrified at Sabretooth, you whisper to yourself.. "Don't fret, he was just an omniscient voice during the most recent Pacquiao match, how could he possibly hurt you?"

Highlight of the whole movie: Hugh Jackman's butt

Everytime Will.I.Am is in the frame you get an unexplainable urge to belt out, "What's wrong with the world mama? People living like aint got no mamas"

Daniel Henney dies, half the audience flee the cinema. Now you understand why Xmen was such a hit, there's no way it was because of the predictable plot.

Halfway through the screening you realize the secret pull of the movie: the overflow of actors and their high testosterone levels.

A leather jacket can make anybody look cool, even a banana.

50% of the movie is constituted by Wolverine's facial hair.

You just know that the local TV networks are going to eat the paternity mix-up drams and turn it into the next low-budget primetime teleserye.

Perfect way to start a new life: Snag a hot brunette that you could shag every night, live on the mountains...literally, as in in a neighbor-less house on top of a hill, put on a flannel shirt and become----a lumberjack.

You regret watching Wolverine because it ignites your yearning to become a mutant.

First the cockroaches then the computers

2009-05-06T11:25:00.006+08:00

What if the computers "wake up"? What if every piece of technology is secretly plotting their invasion and just waiting for their cue to declare a war between humans? After my cockroach-invasion theory I started getting paranoid about other entities that could potentially assume our title as rulers of the Earth.

I was talking to Count von count about how much emotional input I've been pouring in my blogs. As of the moment I maintain 3 blogs; this one (my pseudo-personal blog), my personal blog (where I put intimate details of my daily dealings) and my Micro-blog (where I document the play-by-play of my life).

Now imagine if some maniacal programmer from a hotshot multinational computer technology corporation develops a software or a virus that teaches computers to "adopt" written emotions encoded into the internet, like human intelligence mimicry.

Once downloaded, the innumerable tween-written blogs alone would suffice to fulfill the lack of emotional intelligence of computers. What happens if the virus infects the CIA? the Whitehouse? the Pentagon? Or worse: my laptop?

I've scoured the internet for different studies on the possibility of computer autonomy. It has always been a subject of breathtaking optimism but so far the progression of the studies conducted is very minimal; they still haven't found a way to create robots that could respond to complex real-world scenarios.

Robots taking over the earth has always been a laughable matter and has always been dismissed as fiction. When ideas like this emerge, it immediately materializes in the form of a sci-fi B-movie (except for the Matrix, I love the Matrix, I think Matrix is the most legendary film ever made in this century. I'm not going all dorky on you. The fact that it was an offshoot of Plato's Forms Theory makes it something worthy of critical attention, so DON'T START WITH ME.)

Movies about a robot-based apocalyse such as I, robot, The Matrix, Terminator, and other films of the same nature are often not taken seriously and usually entail a smirk. Like that could happen, right?. But what if it did?

Imagine your computer wakes up, downloads all the emotional crap in your blog (your likes, dislikes, problems, coping mechanisms, erotic fantasies, the whole enchilada), kills you and assumes your life on Earth!

I say we smash the damn computers with sledgehammers before they even get the chance!

The Cockroach Omen

2009-05-05T10:48:00.018+08:00

photo courtesy of this girl

I've been getting nightly visits from a cockroach. Which doesn't really come as a surprise since my room is a hot mess. You could go there in a gas mask and the stench could still knock you unconscious. The question is how the little pest snuck inside when I always make sure my door is sealed shut. And it only goes to my room, not to any of the rest of the rooms in the house.

Every time I chance upon Cocky (let's call him Cocky) wending his way across the room, my immediate reflex is to reach for my tsinelas and try to squish him. Every attempt was a failure, the little bugger manages to escape me every time. And since clearly project-splat is not working, I had to come up with alternatives.

Insecticides were never considered because the fume gives me congestion. And although they have scented insecticides, I still feel uncomfortable using them; the thought of inhaling chemicals that are fatal to other creatures scares me.

I also ruled out calling a cockroach-whisperer because Miss Piggy is busy.

Plan B: I bought 3 sheets of fly paper the next morning and placed it under the bed. I had no intentions of resting until I'm absolutely certain that the room is roach-free.

It proved to be ineffective because, you stupid idiot, cockroaches have needle-thin legs.

Nothing was working. At first I thought of setting a bait that could attract cockroaches. And once the target bites it, BAM! I unsheathe a revolver and shoot at it right then, right there.

But that's too impractical. And besides you don't wanna mess with the creatures who could survive a thermonuclear explosion. From now on, stick to a pacifistic approach.

Then I thought, why not just clean the damn room. Maybe a sterile environment is hostile to cockroaches. So I got rid of all the biodegradable stuff lying around my floor and vacuumed every socket, every tile and every visible crack.

It seemed to have worked. I didn't get any signs of any cockroach presence for a good 2 days. Until one night, after putting down the book I was reading, there they were; 3 disgusting little winged creatures playing "agawan base" on my bedroom floor.

The only solution I had left was diversion. I figured that since there's no way of getting rid of these insects why not just bribe them into not entering the room? Divert their attention.

With my plan outlined, I started putting unused postage stamps just outside my door (a substance irresistible to cockroaches accdg. to my research). That way they wouldn't be enticed to go further inside because what they're looking for---which presumably is food---is already there.

But dangit that also didn't work! I've run out of solutions and I'm starting to worry because I might wake up one night and have cockroaches on my face. Actually no, not only am I worried, I am petrified. I've heard stories about cockroaches laying eggs on a sleeping person's tongue and plus I saw Children Of The Corn!

Oh My God I just figured out why!

The indecipherable infestation is an omen! A forewarning that an impending cockroach apocalypse is upon us!

. . . . .

UPDATE:

A reader emailed me an article about cockroaches being zombified. I have yet to read it but who knows, I might be on to something.

The Payatas Millionaire

2009-05-04T21:08:00.009+08:00

I was talking to Count von count about that Bollywood movie the other day. What's it called again? Slumdog, something.

As expected, she was also sucked into the Slumdog Millionaire vortex, as I'd like to call it. God knows everybody was. You people are free to jump around and celebrate the squalor of Mumbai, as for me, no thank you.

I have to admit though that I did enjoy most of the film, I just don't think it deserves the overwhelming wave of positive reviews it's been getting----what's the word? Ah, yes, OVERRATED, that's it. Like how my friend Medusa puts it, "God you're too OA, please lang, mga bumbay lang yan". Yes, I am friends with racists, get over it. Actually I wouldn't really call it racism, it's like pseudo-racism because technically she didn't say anything disparaging against any race.

But anyway, going back to Slumdog... I tried analyzing why it didn't have the same effect to me as it did to the vast majority and arrived at the realization that, unlike most of you, I know that I have seen this before. Matter of fact, I have been seeing this movie since I developed the ability of sight.

Slumdog Millionaire is nothing but a well directed/well produced, slightly high-budget Pinoy flick--------or at least it could easily be one. You can't understand, I know. Let me walk you through it.

You replace the anti-Islam epithets with cries for Mindanao nationalization, the Mumbai slums with Payatas and Who Wants to be A Millionaire with Wowowee. The lead could be named, I dunno, Jhun2x perhaps as in Ju-hun Ju-hun, with an emphasis on the "h". And then Latika could be Apple, or Cherry or other fruit-derived names that we Filipinos are so fond of naming our children.

As I was saying, Slumdog could easily be a Filipino film. We just need a couple of alterations....

First we will need a filthy, unruly, fetid place in the Philippines. Which is really not a problem because basically you just look to your left and presto: filthy,unruly, fetid place. Although the Payatas dump site is our best bet.

Then we need to have a controversial societal conflict to add a little spice to the story. I guess you could say the Abu Sayyaf terrorism is interesting. I mean, holding foreigners captive and televising their decapitation is interesting, I guess.

Of course we need a gameshow around which the whole story will revolve. I picked Wowowee because first, it's the most prominent and second, just like how it was portrayed in Slumdog, the way Jamal played Who Wants To Be A Millionaire technically made it a game of chance, which is the very nature of Wowowee and which is the only way the poor can obtain riches at this time.. and last, admit it, you all wanna see "Papi" and his pedophilic face on the big screen.

As for the actors, well that needn't be a problem; just pick somebody who's exceptionally good in portraying an emotionally battered character but at the same time possesses killer dance moves. I'm sure you can easily find someone, what with all the tacky variety shows you shove up our faces every Sunday afternoon.

You know that there wouldn't be a problem when it comes to the cheesy screenplay because that's precisely the thing the Philippine movie industry capitalizes on. Consider the possible tagline; "Jhun-Jhun, Tayo ang Itinadhana"

And for the ending I can just imagine Jhun-Jhun and Apple walking slowly towards each other at the MRT station, glistening eyes locked on eachother's. They lean closer, share a passionate kiss amid a swarm of faceless people. They look at eachother's misty eyes once more....... sabay sayaw ng Papaya Dance.

the sea sponge and the prune with a skin discoloration

2009-05-03T14:58:00.009+08:00

I really can't fathom why you humans exult over this sweltering heat. You often tell me I'm a fool not to like Summer.

While I ball up in an air-conditioned room after boarding up the windows, you people scream your lungs out and run towards big bodies of water and vulnerably get exposed to ultraviolet rays that could kill you...and yet you tell me I'm the stupid one for hating Summer.

Let me tell you a couple of things I hate about the season.

1. Top of the list, of course, the searing heat. Thanks to it, all the fluids in my body have evaporated. I'm a walking sea sponge on dry land.

2. All these humans start populating MY malls. I can endure a couple of you, but too much of you gives me the hives. I was thisclose to fabricating a bombscare.

3. There's just something about Summer that makes television networks produce sappy programs. I dunno, did you notice? Well it's either that or the heat has decreased our irritation threshold, we easily complain about the most trivial things. Just the other day, while watching that Santino show on ABS CBN I heard the help say, "ba't ganyan naman ang suot ni Santino, ang Chaka!"

4. As if it's not enough that you wear that face everyday, now you've made it a hundred shades darker. nice work!

5. I generally don't approve of the idea of soaking up in saltwater for hours--really, I hate the beach--but on the days that I let my friends brainwash me into going, I see to it that I at least get to relish the tranquility of the vastness of the open sea. Summer has made that impossible. Now you see a lot of floating nimrods screaming at each other. It's like, everywhere you go you hear laughter, and you know how I feel about the sound of other people's laughter; It makes me wanna polish up the musket and shoot somebody.

6. Let me tell you something about myself. When exposed to too much heat, I develop genetic mutations. Just last year I had to have an 11th finger severed.

7. Even on room temperature I get dehydrated. Imagine how much water I'd have to chug now that the heat has doubled. So if you find my blogs senseless and boring, blame Summer! It dried up the little creative juice I had.

8. Idleness. Everything is so quiet when you don't do anything, I hate silence. It's so quiet at home I could actually hear my blood circulation. It's so draining, sometimes I lock myself in the room, cut out letters from newspapers and send out ransom letters to random people.

9. There's the universal problem of being broke. Most of you are broke because you don't have allowance, in my case I'm broke because I spend all my money buying ammunition. Don't ask.

10. Perky losers like yourselves who just luuurve summer, and who go out in public to pollute the planet Earth!

I'm sorry, you're not a loser. I just generally hate seeing, uck, people. It's things like this why I am persuaded to use my biological weapons to keep humans at home. If you think that the swine virus outbreak this summer is coincidental, think again.

Mga Brooooo,,,,,

2009-05-02T11:01:00.001+08:00

After how many days of evaluation, I've decided not to post my podcasts here. I am currently in the course of constructing a more personal, embarrassing, terrifically-handy-when-you-want-to-blackmail me blog and I've made the decision to just post it there since my blasted pilot episode categorizes as personal, embarrassing, and terrifically handy when you want to blackmail me.

I apologize for taking too long update. And to the 17 people who emailed me questions, don't worry, even If my instincts told me not to, and even if some of them are mind-numbingly stupid, I still answered each and every one of them via email. Check your mail, Go!

So I guess that's that.

Anyway I'll post sensible blogs soon. Im just really not in the mood to write today. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after that... or, what if you just come here everyday to check? ok? good? done.

Yo banana peeps!

2009-04-29T00:29:00.007+08:00

Ok, so I'm putting together a podcast. What I need you to do is email me questions, any question. I need them by tomorrow. Ask me anything.

email address: kristiansomera@gmail.com

If you have your yahoo messenger on, click this and leave me an offline message. that's it.

shalom, losers.

Going all Risky Business over the Duster Chicks

2009-04-24T22:32:00.012+08:00

My head is so empty that I'm reduced to talking about myself.

The only thing remotely interesting to me is this new pinoy all-girl rockband that I recently discovered. They're called Duster and their music is sooooo FLY! Like The Donnas meets contemporary Manila.

From an otherwise uneventful Sunday afternoon, I got up, stripped my clothes off, put my sunnies on, wore the unreasonably overpriced trenchcoat that I bought 2 months ago but haven't gotten the chance to wear, and danced to this:

para sa lahat ng kasinungalinga't kalokohan ng bansang Pilipinas!!!!

I tried. doesn't work

2009-04-22T19:24:00.010+08:00

I often get asked why I seldom talk about my daily activities in this blog. It is, after all, supposed to be an online journal. The rationale is analogous to why I don't blog about the touchy topic of romance; it's stupid and disappointing. Besides, though my good looks connote a fabulous life (object to this and I will amputate your genitals), my day to day routine is unbelievably boring and average. And like I said I think it's stupid. But this kind of mentality limits my blog material. So today I said, what the heck, I'm in the mood to be stupid and disappointing. Here goes;

Went to school in an ugly gray shirt.

The cabbie puts on Dion on my way to school. best way to start your day.

Sang along to My Heart Will Go On without being conspicuous.

Had a fairly boring lecture about potato cells in my Biology class.

I decided that "chromosome" is cool word. I think I'll name my firstborn chromosome. her nickname could be "chrom-chrom".

I babbled about childhood memories with my dad over lunch. What a cool thing to do. I love my dad, he just bought me a DSLR which I will get in May. hoorah.

Rummaged National Bookstore for potential additions to my arsenal. Stayed for an hour reading Marquez on the floor. Marquez is coocoo.

Had my Philosophy class. talked about the human existence. I realized that everybody is dumber than me. Especially the girl on my left, who I'm sure will read this blog.

Prayed in the chapel. Yeah, yeah, he can be holy, move on.

Braved the heat and accompanied my friends to a flea market. A FLEA MARKET! how cool am I? I know someone who died in a flea market. I was practically risking death.

...and then, there it was, smack dab in the middle of the flea market, the mecca of bags. Actually it wasn't so much a mecca as it was 2 big piles of dirty overused bags with a stench that could put a perfectly healthy person in a coma. I wasn't exaggerating when I said "big"; the piles were thrice my height. I could kill someone, bury the body somewhere in there and nobody could tell. But even if the bags almost smothered us, I still hiked it and found myself a black leather bag that cost a hundred bucks. A measly 100 bucks! aint that great?

I was so caught up with our rare spiritual bag journey that I didn't notice my shirt; it was completely drenched in sweat. The hypochondriac in me kept screaming "pneumonia! pneumonia!". So we ran off to an air-conditioned mini-mall and there I bought a really cheap off-the-rack tee that cost me 75 pesos (I say off-the-rack because you might think I buy shirts on a flea market and wear them upon purchase. I didn't buy the shirt on the flea market. why am I explaining this to you?). It was of course godawful but I'd wear a rug if it meant
not having pneumonia.

In that ugly shirt I went to go meet Medusa at a coffee parlor. Bragged about my 100-peso bag and talked about Ted Failon. he did it.

Went to Medusa's house because her mom prepared paella for us. Can't pass that up.

Met my mom at the mall and bought groceries. Asked her to drive me to this pirated-DVD place. Bought 5 DVD's.

God this is getting really boring, even for me and I'm the one typing. Forget it this is not worth my time. bye.

I am a conductor and the world is my orchestra

2009-04-21T19:25:00.008+08:00

Pretty Persuasion is a story about a manipulative, two-faced, backstabbing teenager so obsessed with fame that she's willing to fabricate a web of lies to frame somebody and get the media attention that she wants.

I know, the resemblance is uncanny but for once I am not talking about myself; I'm not making this stuff up, that really is a movie.

Evan Rachel Wood stars as Kimberly Joyce, the aforementioned high school attention whore who convinces her friends to accuse their English professor of sexual assault and charm the media into spinning the story in her favor.

Take away all my inhibitions then put me in a gray skirt and I am Kimberly Joyce; vengeful, satirical, manipulative, selfish, visionary and unbelievably clever (I'm sure callous-face agrees). I just haven't reached my full potential yet. Once I mature, I'm most certain that I would do exactly as she did given the same circumstance.

Granted that there are already a number of movies of the same genre, concept, theme or whathaveyou, Pretty Persuasion still offers goods unavailable to its predecessors; it shatters the detergent commercial image that the modern American culture passes itself off to be. And although you can tell that in many levels the movie is politically incorrect, you still couldn't bring yourself to turn away from the television. You'll find the racial slurs hilarious but you know you're not allowed to laugh thus confirming my theory that we are all closet bigots.

It has the makings of a typical teenage high school flick but possesses the audacity of a slasher movie. It tackles the realities of the contemporary American life by being brazenly obvious about it. The severity of racism, the superficial celebrity-worship, gender identity, pedophilia, among other things are bluntly commented upon with sparks of sarcasm and dark comedy. Think "Mean Girls", "Heathers", "Cruel Intentions" and "To Die For".

Too bad they ruined everything in the last few seconds of the film, where we see Kimberly Joyce shedding-----ughck-----remorseful tears. That's about the most unrealistic thing about it, I mean yeah, scheming people like us do feel a shred of regret once our sinister plans play out, but truth is, though sometimes our conscience gets to us, we're only too happy with the end result to even worry about the casualties.

Evan Rachel Wood stars alongside Jane Krakowski, Ron Livingston and James Woods

Callous-face strikes back

2009-04-19T21:35:00.007+08:00

The good thing about having haters is knowing that your blog is slowly leaving the depressing confines of a 1-digit readership. Like what Samantha Jones said, first come the haters then the gay admirers then everybody else.

I received an email this evening that literally floored me. I love my new hater. Masyadong ume-effort sa pag-eexpress ng opinions nya. Remember I told you about that callous-y dork who insisted that I terminate this blog? Yeah, her. Apparently she still couldn't get enough of me so she revisited my site and read the post I made about her.

She was furious.

Di daw gwapo, if I know crush mo ko. Aminin na kasi, you love me and you wanna kiss me.

Here's the message that prompted me to make a blog about her.

I thought that withholding her name was the right thing to do, but who am I kidding, it's more fun this way. Besides, it's only fair to give her recognition for the extra effort she exerted to make sure I know how much she hated me. Because nothing says "I hate you" like a passionate, gramatically-incorrect mail.

Tell you what, there's this place called Hell, you could go there. And while you're at it, you can take my finger with you. Here oh ,,I,,

If you think I'll let you slip that easily you're sadly mistaken.

Minions, you have my blessing to do as you please with her. Just make sure the job is clean and untraceable. I'd do it myself but the police is breathing down my neck as it is, I don't need another suit.

Promising

2009-04-17T18:25:00.002+08:00

anong english ng "pssst" ?

2009-04-16T18:56:00.006+08:00

Chito Roño has long proved his cinematic prowess when it comes to horror flicks; from Feng Shui to Sukob. Now the problem is how he can top the success of the latter, which is currently the highest grossing Filipino horror film of all-time. So for his comeback movie, he decides to explore the world of engkantos.

The film is entitled T2 and it reeks. The storyline is too ambitious. There's no way the Philippines could've pulled it off.

You people never learn, didn't I tell you to stick to bukid-baryo horror? You know that's about the only thing we're good for, going beyond that is a long shot. Did you seriously think that you could create a magical city by using the antediluvian technology that the first world dumped into our country? You can't just take 2 hours of our lives and get away with it. you're on my list.

What a waste of concept, I've always been fascinated with engkantos.

My aunts tell me that I myself have had my fair share of engkanto encounters (plus points for the alliteration) Since my relatives are devout believers of the paranormal existence, every toothache, lagnat, pilay, pigsa, mutated tutuli, is subjected to a tawas session, in which the culprit of your illness is identified.

When I was about 4-5 years old, I had a problem. Since our katulong hardly lets me out of the house, I developed this weird habit of talking to myself in the backyard. My having an imaginary friend was never an issue for it is a phase inescapable to every kid my age. I used to go outback to laugh alone, then I would yak about things too indistinct for anyone to understand. This concerned a visiting aunt, she insisted that my lack of peers have made me a vulnerable target to the engkantos. She said a lot of engkantos are very playful and lures lonely little kids into going to their castle. Naturally, my mother thought it was absurd.

A few days after, the househelp complained about hearing a child singing a lullaby (the term was uyayi which apparently means lullaby) at around 1:30 in the morning. The next night she heard me talking to someone in the backyard... she went to check, I was nowhere in sight. When she returned inside, she saw me at the door. I looked at her for a short while, laughed, then skipped to my room. The help left the day after with a fever, saying "sinasapian na ang anak nyo."

When mother found out what happened she immediately phoned my aunt---and before I could even realize what was happening, a witchdoctor was in my living room rubbing my skin with a crystal stick while mumbling a bunch of incomprehensible words.

It's funny how everyone went through all those trouble without even bothering to consider that maybe I was just schizophrenic.

But that's all behind me now. So where was I? Ahhh, yes, I was making a review for T2.

Don't watch it, it's a joke. And Chito Roño knows this. Which I presume is the reason why he gave a cameo role to John Lloyd Cruz; to make up for all the irreparable pain that his pathetic movie has inflicted upon its audience. T2 is nothing but another display of ABS-CBN's blatant exploitation of the John Lloyd Cruz appeal.

.

Shoo fly don't bother me

2009-04-15T19:14:00.003+08:00

I received another email to terminate this blog from presumably a 20 year old callous-y dork who's clearly unfamiliar with the word sarcasm.

I don't get it with you people; you know what goes on in this sad excuse for a blog and yet you keep coming here. You very well know that a visit to this blog shaves 5 minutes of your ~~pathetic~~ precious lives. So why? why do you keep going here even if you claim it does nothing but exude negativity?

I can only think of 3 reasons; 1. you were neglected as a child which urged you to become a masochist to get attention, 2. you're insanely in love with me and your advice to shut down my blog is merely a concern for my welfare, 3. you're an idiot.

My money's on number 3.

List of the goal-less

2009-04-14T17:24:00.006+08:00

I know precisely what I need. a goal.

For the past days my mind has gone defunct, not that it was fully-functional in the first place but still. I've been wearing out my brain cells with all the plotting for world domination. I need to take a break from all the large-scale scheming and concentrate on myself first.

So let's see, what can I do that I haven't done already?

Aahh, yes. I will make a rap song about the injustices of the Arroyo administration and hopefully awaken the minds of the naive Filipinos. This country is in desperate need of change, what it needs is a genius that could surpass the literary brilliance of Jose Rizal. What this country needs....is me. I will start the composition right away.

Adopt a homeless askal. To prove to everybody that I am capable of giving unconditional love to the unwanted. I shall name my askal, Kim Jong Il.

I will watch every Lino Brocka film ever created. If that douche can turn insipid concepts into cinematic spectaculars then so can I.

I believe there's much more to Pan's Labyrinth than the producers wanted us to believe. I shall find out what.

To personally whack Chris Brown with a batuta.

Read Sense and Sensibility. Maybe a little Austen can knock the despair out of my system.

Convince more people how absurd Gandhi was.

Admittedly, I have been really self-absorbed and cocky. So to compensate for this I will compliment my peers everyday.

No, wait, I change my mind.

You should see the other kid

2009-04-13T16:38:00.005+08:00

Nothing cures a depression like seeing two street kids tearing each other apart. Ahhh, childhood brawling. goodtimes, goodtimes. I remember my first fist fight.

I was 5. Unhealthily lanky. Hissed at children who dared talk to me. Always carried around a stick (a necessity to ward off unwanted company).

I obviously was different from all the other kids. While others rejoice upon being given nursery books, I was one who showed indifference. I never touched children's books, which was then to blame for my teachers' growing suspicion of dyslexia. I never took interest not because I was incapable of comprehension, but because I found the books really dumb. Because unlike most of you, I think puppies who lose their way are not cute, they're stupid and therefore don't deserve my sympathy.

Oafs as they were, I still commended my classmates because they could take a hint; I liked my privacy. The kids know that disrupting it unleashes my inner bitch. Safe to say I got the respect I worked hard for. Everything was in peace until this new kid comes in.

He was the anti-me; fat, friendly, perky, naive. The type who answers your call with a smile. Clearly we would not get along. He tried to ask for my name. I glared at him, used my telepathic ability to transmit vital information: YOU ARE INVADING MY PRIVACY, MORTAL!!! EVAPORATE BEFORE I SLIT YOUR THROAT AND HAVE YOUR INNARDS SHOOT OUT OF IT! A fair warning is enough; no violence necessary yet since it was a rookie mistake, I was confident he wouldn't do it again.

The same day during recess, Sunshine sat right next to me. Back then sandwiches were the "in" thing, everybody brought sanwiches. For some unapparent reason, Tubby thought these sandwhices were brought to be shared. So the big tub of lard leaned towards my direction, got his grimy little fingers on my sandwich, and took a big chomp out of it.

everybody gasped.

THAT DID IT!

I scowled for 2 seconds, waited for him to turn around, then BAM!
He died.

OK not really, but I did take a hard jab at him, aiming for his back because that's how you rupture the lungs ergo compromise his breathing. Once he bends his back to try and inhale, that's your cue to hit his nose with your elbow. Unfortunately before my elbow reaches his snotty nose, my intrusive teacher gets a hold of my arm.

But regardless of what happened, I still won----it got me my first parent-teacher conference, but what's that compared to a taste of childhood victory.

So what's the moral of the story, kids?

The lesson is:

Don't-fuck-with-me.

That's the lesson.

Sometimes you need...

2009-04-09T19:43:00.003+08:00

When panic attacks impede your endorphin production, you look for things to make you feel better....

Gonzo et Count Von Count

2009-04-08T00:53:00.004+08:00

My relationship with Count Von Count goes beyond friendship. We are comrades, allies. I am very finicky in choosing my alliances; I make sure they have the same intellectual level as I do. So far, Count Von Count is one of the lucky few who qualify.

Most of our confabulations are about socially relevant controversies, revolutionary ideas to eradicate pesky little earthlings, the filth in politics, and the like... Often times, it's like this:

Count Von Count: may typo ang title ng blog mo
Count Von Count: or sinadya ba yun?

Gonzo: uuuuh
Gonzo: the whole blog is a typo anyway
Gonzo: btw, by "uuuhhh", I gasped

Count Von Count: that's not the sound you make when you gasp!
Count Von Count: it's more...
Count Von Count: "huuuuuuh"

Gonzo: wala namang “h” ah, pag nag gagasp
Gonzo: ang gasp ko parang hinihika
Gonzo: usually walang “h”

Count Von Count: hahahaha
Count Von Count: it's hard to tell kasi
Count Von Count: prang it was “uhhhh, no”

Gonzo: hence my explanation
Gonzo: if I typed "huuuuh" you might misconstrue it as "huh?"
Gonzo: See my dilemma there?

Count Von Count: at least prang shocked ka kung “huuuuuuuh”

Gonzo: no kaya, i'm like blowing kung "huuuuuuuuuuuuh", with all the U's

Count Von Count: pag “huuuuh” kasi it’s like, “huwaaaat”

Gonzo: I would love to know how you got to “huwaaaat”

Count Von Count: I didn't get “huwaaaaaat” from “huuuuuuh” pro i'm just saying it's the same

Gonzo: Im so proud of our profound conversations

Count Von Count: I know I was just gonna say

Fleeing the cinema fast and furious

2009-04-07T11:51:00.014+08:00

Fast and Furious are two primitive films smashed into one. You have the cliched revenge-for-a-loved-one drivel and the tired government-after-the-mafia plot.

For a tag line that promises newness ("New model, Original parts"), the movie doesn't satisfy. We've already seen that junk thousands of times. But then again it's not the storyline that lures us into watching The Fast and The Furious' 4th installment but the hardcore vehicular mayhem. It's still no Death Race but what the hell, we get to fantasize over Jordana Brewster in this one.

I think the movie would've fared better if they've done away with the sucky overused plot. It's not the drama we're after, where are the explosions and rubble? Our thirst for seeing things blow up is not quenched because the film only feeds us with 4 major stunts. They stuffed the movie with mush. Most of the time I wanted to ball up my sock and shove it right up Vin Diesel's mouth. Dude, shut up and crash into someone already!

But even if a whole lot of cheese were injected into the film, there were still a lot of testosterone going on; I could literally feel my facial hair growing. There were less participation of women than the last 3 which would've been fine if it hadn't given us crazy ideas of Vin Diesel making a pass at Paul Walker. Their nonstop dramatic exchange urges the audience to stand up and scream, "JESUS, GET A ROOM!"

I expected this movie to calm me down, but I still hadn't gotten my bloodshed fix. Both Knowing and Fast and Furious are total disappointments. You better hope I get it before Holy Week because last time there was a delay, I accidentally planted explosives in traveling buses.

You have your Thanksgiving, I have my April Fool's

2009-04-06T20:58:00.009+08:00

Count von count is such a loser that for her status message in Facebook, she posted a stupid link about an April Fool's joke.

But stupid as it is, I still enjoyed it; you know how I revel on other people's misery. And besides, I like April Fool's; People deliberately lying and scheming to make another feel horrible? It's like my own personal version of Thanksgiving.

Here's one way of doing it:

" NEW YORK - New York University officials weren't laughing when hundreds of people mistakenly received word that they'd been accepted to grad school on April Fools' Day.

NYU says it sent out acceptance e-mails April 1 to 489 applicants to the Robert F. Wagner Graduate School of Public Service. Those applicants should have received rejection letters instead.

The school sent out a second e-mail about an hour later to the applicants, saying they hadn't been accepted after all. NYU spokesman Robert Polner blamed the mixup on a clerical error. He says the school apologizes for the mistaken e-mails and is looking into it to prevent it from happening again. "

End of the world, NO, aliens, NO, Nicolas Cage's constipation, NO, wait, huh?

2009-04-05T14:06:00.004+08:00

Why I watched this movie, I have no idea.

I had no prior knowledge about the film except the balding Nicolas Cage stars in it.
The poster conveys chaos, catastrophe, TOTAL PLANETARY DESTRUCTION----obviously my kind of movie, so I gave it a chance.

For something that claims to satiate my daily yearning for human bane, Knowing was a disappointment of global proportions. You would think that coming from the director of the epic "Dark City", "Knowing" would at least elicit inquisitions about the possibility of a looming apocalypse. But despite what the trailer suggests, you get nothing intelligent from this movie. But then again what would you expect from a film where Nicolas Cage is an astrophysicist?

Like most sci-fi movies go, the story picks up on the unraveling of a strange paraphernalia. In this case it's a 50-year old time capsule bearing an inscription written by an odd school girl. Professor John Koestler (Cage) then makes a startling discovery that the numbers in the cryptic message are accurate predictions of catastrophes in the past 50 years (dates, death tolls, coordinates). The document also contains details about three more catastrophes that are yet to occur--one of which has something to do with---wait for it---*cure horror*.....

....the-end-of-the-world.

And then, when things start to get exciting, questionable smooth black spa pebbles mysteriously start appearing. And then strange blond guys begin showing up from nowhere. At first we think they're ghosts, but we realize that ghosts can't drive. Maybe they're agents sent by the government who are after the encoded message, but no, they're not after Koestler, they're after his son. After much speculation, we discover that the pale blond men are aliens---so much for our Leukemia theory. Everything goes downhill from there. And it wouldn't stop. The incessant display of Nicolas Cage's constipated reaction to every occurrence would make you long for the end of the world yourself.

Sappy movies like this usually compensate with good visual effects. It fails even in that area. The supposed end of the world looked like a clip from an outdated videogame. Even the makeup sucks; the moment I saw the anemic-looking tall blond aliens, a part of me half-expected Buffy the vampire slayer to jump out of the bushes and kick their butts. The least you could do is make the extraterrestrials look creepy enough to convince us.

What I do like about this film is the sneaky global warning awareness that it promotes. A warning that if both our indifference and disobedience go on for a coupla more years, planetary havoc is a possibility.

But who's worrying? We Filipinos have the survival ability of a cockroach! We've survived every kind of calamity ever thrown to us! We can get through anything! BRING IT, BITCH!

.

Kneel before the next great imperator

2009-04-04T13:38:00.006+08:00

I see so much potential in my little brother at being the next World Ruler; Successor to my unparalleled legacy.

Here he is plotting total mass destruction.

Max, trying to blow up an inanimate object using his mind. A skill I mastered at age 2.

The family battle face.

The exact same expression I had when I got caught putting arsenic in my playmate's baby bottle.

Sexual satisfaction starts at Shanghai

2009-04-02T21:39:00.011+08:00

Behold, the dawn of male chauvinism....

Welcome to The Shanghai Sperm Bank: Where we not only give you free hand-jobs, we also pay you for it.

We accommodate 4-5 visits a month. And in each visit, you get 3 mind-blowing hand-actions.

We women slave to satisfy your sexual hunger.

Come visit us now and have every squirt exchanged for a whopping 30 bucks!

Visit us at #145 Shan Dong Zhong Lu, Ren Ji Hospital, Building 1, 7th FL, near Fu Zhou Lu, Shanghai, China.

[SOURCE]

You asked for it...

2009-04-01T22:37:00.004+08:00

I know I say that Filipinos are worthless, parasitic, self-destructing oafish little spineless wasps----but they're my worthless, parasitic, self-destructing, oafish little spineless wasps. You, on the other hand, hold no right to speak ill against them.

Hong Kong Magazine's Chip Tsao, writes,

"Manila has just claimed sovereignty over the scattered rocks in the South China Sea called the Spratly Islands, complete with a blatant threat from its congress to send gunboats to the South China Sea to defend the islands from China if necessary. This is beyond reproach. The reason: there are more than 130,000 Filipina maids working as $3,580-a-month cheap labor in Hong Kong. As a nation of servants, you don’t flex your muscles at your master, from whom you earn most of your bread and butter."

Master? Oh we'll see about that.

Breathe a single derogatory word to my people again and it's your slimy dick on a platter.

. . . . .

UPDATE :

Turns out, chinaboy apologized.

Minions,

ABORT THE CHIP TSAO PROJECT, I REPEAT, ABORT THE CHIP TSAO PROJECT!!

The stupider the better

2009-03-31T15:32:00.002+08:00

I am on the lookout for the person responsible for the sprouting of today's imbecilic game shows; for the genius who sent the filipino intelligence plummeting to an all-time low.

From Deal Or No Deal to Bingo. I must say, a plaudit would not be enough to express how impressed I am of your master-plan, whoever you are. I get it now! If at first I was hesitant, now I am completely on board. But let's not be too hasty, what game shows are we talking about?

We'll begin with Wowowee, where all the stupidity started. How do we define Wowowee? We define it by its contestants. Wowowee is a paradise of the ignorant; scums of the earth who think that shaking their posteriors will make their lives better.

Sure, if you've mastered the art of making giling, or if you pride yourself by having the phenomenal talent of missing every note in a particular song, Wowowee is your wonderland. But if you're a person capable of deduction and therefore has analyzed what the gameshow does to its audience, you would know how heinous it is.

One may argue that the show's purposive charity is well-meant; (giving easy money to the poor), but it still is not the solution to the impending poverty problem of the Philippines. You can provide an easy-fix to the poor all you want but in the long run, once they've spent all of your cash prize, they'd all come crumbling down again.

A measly amount of cash is barely enough to compensate for the harsh reality that the poor are facing. They do not need your money, what they need is proper education; a long-term solution. Instead of pounding them with the idea that they can always dance their way to gold, you impart knowledge. I hate to state the cliche but stop giving the poor the damn fish and start teaching them how to get it themselves.

Game shows are one of the most effective ways of educating the people. What Wowowee does is hardly education, far from it; it breeds blithering morons who have been led to believe that knowledge is negligible as long as you can shake your tush.

Deal Or No Deal. Fine, it's not a homegrown game show, the vile nature of it can not be attributed to the Philippines, it was just adopted, yadiyadiyada---but the fact of the matter is, ABS CBN could've chosen a thousand other intellectual game shows yet they choose a guessing game completely devoid of any educational benefit whatsoever. And sadly this is not enough, so why not add Wheel of Fortune and Pinoy Bingo?! Fuck knowledge and hardwork! Acquiring riches is all about luck!

At first I couldn't bear the idea that these are what they've replaced Who wants to be a Millionaire and The Weakest Link with. But like I said, I now have a clear understanding of why these game shows exist, and I am now for it.

I'm so stupid not to realize what the pundits were up to! This has Marx written all over it! It's the social conflict theory kristian, how dumb can you be? By rendering the masses even more clueless than they already are, the social order will persist; the rich will remain on top and the poor will forever suffer on the lower half of the triangle. GENIUS.

A little advice though, I think Game KNB? should get the ax. Some of their game questions make people use their heads. We wouldn't want the masses to enhance their intellect now, would we?

.

Her Morning Elegance

2009-03-30T16:05:00.001+08:00

The music industry hardly pleases me.

So when good music videos are created, a recognition is in order.

Her Morning Elegance - Oren Lavie

If I were Valedictorian...

2009-03-29T14:16:00.007+08:00

I read someone's illusionary valedictory speech, it was so moving that I decided to rip off the idea and make one of my own.

. . . . .

To the graduates,

A pleasant evening.

I stand before you today as an inspiration; an inspiration of something that even in your wildest dreams, you will never become. I am a manifestation of hard work, perseverance, intelligence and above all, greatness, all of which unfortunately, you lack, otherwise you'd be the one giving the speech and I'd be the one chewing my hair at the back.

I would like to extend my sincerest gratitude to the pillars of the academe; the very same people who were more than willing to become my subordinates. And of course to the students who tried to weasel their way into becoming valedictorian by sucking the asses of the professors. I just want you to know that I forgive you. Because even if you tried to put me down, everybody in this room knows where your lips have been. I would also like to acknowledge my human creators, my parents, for looking after the petri dish in which I gestated. I will always be grateful.

And to all of you who are not valedictorians, it's ok. For you see, the important thing is that you had a dream. A dream to be the best of what you can become. The dream of soaring high and having the stars within your reach. In the end that's all that matters, because if you don't dream, what else would you do? You're all talentless slobs who can't spell their way out of a paper bag. Face it, you are now and forever will be just a dreamer. You may not have surpassed me, but I'll give it to you for trying. Now suck my *expletive deleted* !!!!!

I have but one question to all you hopefuls:

Why can't you all be like me?

Goal-oriented, easy-going, intellectually arousing, oozing with sex appeal, have an outstanding fashion sense, greed-driven et al. But I understand why you didn't go as far as I did. Because while you aimed for healing the sick, building infrastructures and becoming public servants, I aimed for world domination. While you dreamed of making the world a better place, I dreamt of gaining total control over it. While you were succumbing to the violence of the former abusive political leaders of the world, I was busy researching for top-secret information to blackmail them. See, you never raise the bar, that's why you became the losers that you are today. And I sympathize because I know exactly what it feels to be a helpless loser------oh wait, no I don't.

Having said all that, I will leave you with a saying from a film that shook my belief system to the very core.

"Life sucks losers dry, if you wanna fuck with the eagles, you gotta learn to fly."

Mahalo dimwits and enjoy wiping butts for all eternity.

Ennui Ennui Ennui

2009-03-28T12:30:00.005+08:00

You would think that having days of uninterrupted relaxation would give me peace of mind. I don't know why it took me so long to realize that idleness drives me bonkers.

I've run out of DVD's, Filipino CableTV has outdone its own record by having the most number of crappy programs and our demented internet line has gone haywire. It's so quiet I am regularly forced to listen to my blood circulation.

On the plus side, without the hustle bustle of my everyday life and without the annoying retards who won't leave me alone, I can finally hear myself think. If only the thoughts are worth listening to. It's so stressful not having anything to think about; your brain is forced to process the shallowest things that cross your mind. Like this; You are standing up. You are walking to the door. You forgot your slippers. You will look for your slippers under the bed. You are going to blink.... It's so boring I feel like I should plot a massacre just so I'd have something to do.

I thought that solitude would be good for me but so far it has done nothing but give me questionable hallucinations of the Vietnam War. But summer school is fast approaching. Let's just hope for everyone's sake that I haven't blown up a retirement home by then.

.

4 years of overflowing martinis

2009-03-26T18:48:00.005+08:00

I'm not a fan of seeing yuppies rub elbows with each other but the people around me are.

A friend of mine has been bugging me to fly back and go to the "ALL FOUR ONE, ONE FOUR ALL!" Embassy anniversary party. But seeing as I'm a worthless loser who has compulsory summer classes, I'm unable to fly out. So instead, my druid asks me if I could help with the PR.

Here, instant blogosphere PR.

ALL FOUR ONE, ONE FOUR ALL!
the official Embassy Anniversary Party at Sleepless

come celebrate 4 years of Embassy!

featuring:

MAIN:
Embassy's finest residents!
CHEWY
MARC NAVAL
OWENS SUN
AND MARTIN PULGAR

FLY:
hiphop/mash up madness
DJ SANTI,
SCRATCHMARK
AND MARS MIRANDA

EMBASSY SUPERCLUB . MARCH 28 2009 . SATURDAY
gates OPEN AT 9pm
hosted by GP Reyes/Stephen Ku

. . . . .

for GUESTLISTS email kristiansomera@gmail.com

NAMES ONLY AND ONE NAME PER LINE
BRING VALID ID AND DRESS TO IMPRESS!
IF YOU DON'T RECEIVE A CONFIRMATION EMAIL AFTER 5 PM ON MARCH 28, THAT MEANS THE LIST IS ALREADY FULL. BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME.

NAMASTE, BITCHES.

Diary of an Imp-y Kid

2009-03-25T17:49:00.029+08:00

Karmic Law dictates that no matter how good you've been or how much you've compensated for whatever wrong you did in the past, there will always be due punishment.

I think I'm being emotionally punished.

For a person of my intellectual magnificence, asking personal advice from a mother is unthinkable, but I was left with no other option; she won't pay for my therapist. But had I known that my consultation would lead to a well-detailed flashback of my childhood, I would've just resorted to my usual therapeutic neighbor-homicide instead of seeking advice.

She suggests that maybe the root of all my unexplainable grief is karma. Of all the explanations in the world she could venture into, she picks Hinduism. So now it got me thinking, what could I have possibly done in the past that earned me all those bad karma points? Let's see.

Before I became Ruler Of All That Is Evil, I was an infant, or how my mom so lucidly put it, tiyanak.

I was the strangest baby. Half of my infant life was spent under a state of trance; eyes set blankly into open space, unblinking. The grown-ups had to pinch me every now and then to make sure I was still alive. Most of them mistook it for early daftness, but I was positive it was scheming. And if I know myself, I bet my preoccupation was a toss between a plan on how to get rid of all the pestering adults who keep touching me, or a deep concentration to move inanimate objects with my mind and beat the crap out of the pestering adults who keep touching me.

At 3 years old I learned the magic word with which I made the people around me squirm and be forcefully subjected under my command. I didn't even need my rifle to make them do as I say, all I needed was one word. A word that when said, establishes superiority and makes the people around me doubt their intellect therefore comply with my wishes. At 3, I learned how to say "moron."

When I turned 5 the scheming heightened to a worrying albeit tolerable level. It was at that time when I learned how to roll my eyes. Every time I see kids my age wail when they don't get what they want, eye-rolling was particularly useful. Amateurs. I never cry when things don't go my way, I take out a blueprint. Instead of wasting precious body fluid by throwing dramatic tantrums, I used reverse psychology. Rather than exposing my real feelings upon the refusal to buy what I wanted, I gave them the reaction they preferred to see. I would just flash them my famous half-smile, then say, "eh, I don't need those anyway, I'll just play with rocks and broken glass like the orphan kids I saw on TV". Days after my impressive acting, they feel guilty and I get what I want.

On December 25, 1998, father gives me a basketball. charming. I love my pops but he was clueless; giving me that ball is like giving a homeless person a pair of Louboutins; useless, utterly inappropriate and wrong on SOO many levels. But hey, it's very handy when you're looking for something to gather dust behind your toy closet. One morning my dad asked if I would mind giving the ball away to my cousin since it would be of better use with him than with me. Even if I had no plans of ever touching that blasted piece of rubber, the thought of my possession in the hands of another child infuriated me---so I got my hands on the nearest pair of scissors. I assume you can tell what happened next.....

No, I didn't kill my cousin, although now that I think about it, that would've been an easier way to go, but no, I just stabbed the crap out of that stupid ball rendering it useless.

But don't get me wrong, scheming aside, I was a wonderful little bag of sunshine.

That's it for now. A single blog post would not be enough to explicitly recount the chronicles of my childhood, I could write a novel but then I'd run the risk of exposing how much of a threat I am to society.

Kaya mo toh?

2009-03-24T15:33:00.003+08:00

You don't mess with the king

2009-03-23T18:45:00.001+08:00

Because of your nightly underground negotiations with one of the most influential potentates of Russia, you are running late for your rehearsal.

While waiting for the elevator, you go over the script to fully master all the lines in your musical. You notice a typo. You correct it. While scribbling on your script, a short girl cuts in line--exactly what you needed on a Friday morning to set you off on a killing rampage. Hostilities are about to be unleashed, but you remember your deal with the midget community: only 3 victims monthly. Drats! you're already maxed out. You think of alternatives.

You wonder if stabbing someone at the nape with a pen is fatal. veto; too many witnesses. You rummage your bag for plastic; maybe asphyxiation would straighten her up. veto; you don't have plastic. What about spitting at her purse like you did with that old lady who took too long to order in McDonald's? No, not good enough.

You scan her whole body for possible weak points. You carefully scrutinize from crown to heel....
Bingo. flip-flops.

The elevator doors slide open. You walk past her, transfer all your energy onto your right foot. When everything's set, go for the pinky toe. Then you look your prey in the eye; "haven't you heard? I'm the crazy bitch around here."

The new Juan Dela Cruz

2009-03-22T13:55:00.004+08:00

Bill Gates organized an enormous session to recruit a new chairman for Microsoft Europe.
5000 candidates assembled in a large room.

One candidate was MARIO DIMAYUGA.

Bill Gates: "Thank you for coming. We'll do this by process of elimination to speed up the process. Those who do not know JAVA may leave."

2,000 people left the room.

MARIO said to himself, "Naku! I do not know JAVA but I have nothing to lose if I stay. I'll give it a try."

Bill Gates: "Candidates with no experience managing more than 1000 employees may leave."

2000 people left the room.

Mario said to himself, "Lagot! I never managed anybody but myself but I'm staying. What could happen to me?"

Bill Gates: "Candidates without management diplomas may leave."

500 people left the room.

Mario said to himself, "Asus! I never even graduated, but what have I got to lose?"
So he stayed.

Lastly, Bill Gates asked candidates who did not speak Serbo-Croat to leave.

498 people left the room.

Mario says to himself, "Patay! Ano yon??? But I've gotten this far, I have to stay on."

So he stayed and found himself standing with only one other candidate in the room. Everyone else had eliminated themselves.

Bill Gates joined both candidates and said: "Apparently you two are the only candidates with terrific management skills speaking Serbo-Croat, so I'd now like to hear you converse in that language."

Calmly, Mario turned to the other candidate and said, "Kumusta ka, pare ko"
Without batting an eyelash, the other candidate replied, "Mabuti naman. Ikaw?

Source: Cecile Zamora

Kasi naman eh!

2009-03-21T07:47:00.004+08:00

Have you ever had a boil that took too long to heal? That throbbing pus-filled lump that erupts at the slightest skin contact?

Yeah. That's what Ateneo is like during finals. Like an annoyingly painful mutated zit that won't go away.

I'll be back Monday. I apologize for the sappy posts I've been shoving up your faces these past few days.

Namaste.

There's a reason why they call us "Flip"

2009-03-17T06:17:00.007+08:00

I amuse myself by excessively talking about Filipinos. They're such an easy target. (which reminds me, I am now officially dissociating myself with said race as I've decided that I am now and forever will be, a Slovak)

I was having coffee with Zuma earlier when completely out of nowhere she blurts out how proud she was of being Filipino. Mid-sentence, coffee shot out of my eye sockets. She says she'd rather be a poor gleeful Filipino than a well-off snooty french bitch. One might wonder why I'm friends with this woman.

When asked why you're proud to be a Filipino you give me a long monologue about nationalism. In retaliation I give you a list.

People always point out how lucky we are that despite a hardship, we Filipinos always maintain a smile. We're optimists, people should look up to us. Let me tell you something; that's not optimism, it's called neurosis. Smiling doesn't take care of the problem. Smiling doesn't pay the bills. Smiling doesn't lift us from our debts. Smiling amid a crisis is the gateway to dementia.

We get a terrible case of migraine and all of a sudden a witch-doctor comes staggering through the woods, "AHA! SINASABI KO NA! KINUKULAM KA!" ...there's mumbling then the complementary leaves and the candles come out.

There is a looming rice shortage, but we still manage to put up a smile. "We may face famine in the future but heck we still smile. we don't know what 'famine' means anyway". Again with the smiling, if i didn't know better, I'd think the country is breeding toothpaste models---but then again how do we take care of the rotting teeth? But I digress; the Pinoy's unfortunate dental condition is a different blog entirely.

Political unrest is upon us, yet we say, "There's nothing that our famous rallies can't do. Let's dance!" In the Philippines, we have the preposterous belief that everything can be resolved by a couple of chants here, a few fist-raising there and the occasional egg pelting. It may have worked in overthrowing Marcos, but where did our rallying get us now?....helpless under Arroyo's 3 inch feet.

Our country is slowly being overrun by starlets and what do we have to say about it? "SI ATE VI ANG MAGLILIGTAS SAATIN SA KAHIRAPAN! GO DARNA!". Sure, say that some of them are eligible for the office, but the fact of the matter is, once it becomes a trend it becomes a problem; incompetent celebrities will start sprouting from nowhere in the hopes of getting their fat little asses into politics too. First it's Vilma Santos then it's Ai-Ai delas Alas, so on and so forth. And don't give me that crap about how Pinoys are smart enough to discern which candidate to vote. Let's not kid ourselves here; the vast majority of the filipino populace are either clueless or indifferent. Now imagine those very people with a ballot; who do you think would they choose? The name that they're most probably not familiar with or the name that they see on TV?

That's just 5, the list goes on and on. I haven't even started with the media yet. That's when the real fun starts.

..to be continued.

Streets stained with blood and mascara

2009-03-16T19:54:00.003+08:00

CRAAAZY!

Watch a stiletto stampede caused by Top Model hopefuls screaming and running for their lives over a false alarm.

Three people were arrested and six others were hurt on Saturday after bedlam broke out while contestants were waiting to audition for "America's Next Top Model" in Manhattan, New York.

Officials said the stampede Saturday afternoon, involving hundreds of people outside the Park Central New York hotel, was prompted by smoke coming from an overheated car nearby that caused someone to yell "fire," sparking a model stampede at the Midtown hotel.

Mere moments later, someone yelled about a man with a gun, leading to more running and screaming chaos. The panic left the street outside the hotel littered with the would-be models' shoes and clothing, according to news reports.

Source: The Composed Gentleman

Oh there it is!

2009-03-14T23:04:00.005+08:00

You humans surprise me. You've managed to become even more boring than the usual.

I don't have anything to blog about.

Why can't you be all like Cameron Diaz?

What kind of fuckery is this?!

2009-03-13T06:58:00.004+08:00

The classical brilliance that is Heathers is being butchered into a musical.

"The influential 1988 teen dark comedy, which launched the careers of Winona Ryder, Christian Slater and scribe Dan Waters, is stagebound in a production being developed by Andy Fickman, director of "Race to Witch Mountain," who is making a return to his musical roots." [...]

Congratulations! You have decided to ruin my all-time favorite movie, thus sealing your doom.

Austen in the 20th century

2009-03-12T21:32:00.006+08:00

Pride and Prejudice for the mentally feeble who have the attention span of a gold fish.

Click here.Click here.Click here.Click here.Click here.Click here.Click here.

Why they win

2009-03-11T21:52:00.003+08:00

Heath Ledger dies and he garners an Oscar.

Francis Magalona dies and he rakes in a couple of awards. And now he's in the talks of becoming the National Artist.

Question; Has death become a criterion for competitions? Must one die before his efforts get recognized?

I came up with 5 possible reasons as to why the dead is glorified upon death.

1. Money. What may be perceived as an act of sincere commemoration is actually a publicity ploy from which the outpour of money starts; when you give a certain dead personality an award, your "contest" will naturally be publicized, then comes the money.

2. Fear. You give the dead this award or they haunt you.

3. Lack of option. An idiot nominates the deceased. The electorate are given no other option since objecting to said nomination would mean disrespecting the dead and when you disrespect the dead you get #2.

4. Insipidity. Since the rest of the competitors are complete amateurs, mights as well give it to the corpse.

5. Pity. "Oh look, he's dead na. We should give him the award. He's so kawawa eh"

.

How to jumpstart your morning

2009-03-10T20:17:00.006+08:00

Try waking up to this.....

More of the little gay boys here.

Situational

2009-03-09T19:37:00.010+08:00

The cabbie drives you through an unfamiliar route on the way home. When asked what road he's taking, the driver refuses to answer. What do you do?

a) You scream. Scream as loud as you could. You are being kidnapped possibly for rape! The natural response is to let out a piercing shriek. And while you're being dramatic you could also go all the way and grab the steering wheel, swerve the car into different directions and hopefully crash into a tree.

b) Consider why the driver is ignoring you. Does this hostility towards you stem from a deeper emotional source? Was it because he was neglected as a child? And because he was neglected did he get into a lot of brawls which led a foe to stab his ears with a pencil leaving him incapable of hearing? Again, politely ask the cabbie, "Manong, bakit ba hindi ka namamansin?"

c) Pretend that somebody's calling you then bitch about how you disliked the trophy you've won in a Jujitsu tournament. If he remains silent and composed and still determined to rape you, tell your pretend caller that Dr. Zamora called you a week ago to tell you that you've contracted AIDS.

d) Ask the driver again, if he still won't respond, employ your good manners; flash a gentle smile, then strangle the truth out of him.

all throughout the trip I had fantasies of being molested by the driver.

So what really happened?

2009-03-08T18:46:00.006+08:00

.

That Chris Brown better watch it.

After reading the full police report on the Rihanna-Chris poop face Brown incident, I went from this....

to this...

Unsuspecting victims mysteriously perish at the slightest roll of my eye. You could just imagine what I could do to that puny, defenseless douche. So if ever you're reading this, poop face, which i'm sure you are, YOU BETTER WATCH IT!

Meanwhile, I have the full report. It's a bit lengthy but I promise you that you would want to know the play by play of what really happened:

"Christopher B and Robyn F(Rihanna) have been involved in a dating relations for approx 1 and half year. On Sunday Feb 8 at 25 hours Brown was driving a vehicle with Robyn F as the front passenger on an unknown street in Los Angeles. Robyn F picked brown,s cellular phone and picked up a three-page text message from a woman Brown had had a previous relationship with.

"A verbal argument ensued and Brown pulled a vehicle over in an unknown street. Reach over Robyn F with his right hand and open the car door and attempted to force her out. Brown was unable to force Robyn F out of the vehicle because she was wearing a seat belt. When he could not force her to exit he took his right hand and shoved her head against the passenger window of the vehcile causing an approx 1 inch raised circular contusion.

"Robyn F turned to face Brown and punched her in the left eye with right hand. He then drove away in the vehicle and continued to punch her in the face with his right hand while steering the vehicle with his left hand. The assault caused Robyn F Osmouth to fill with blood and blood to splatter all over her clothing and the interior of the vehicle. Brown looked at Robyn F and stated "I am going to beat the s--t out of you when we get home! You wait and see!?

"Robyn F picked her cellular phone and called her personal assistant Jennifer Rosales. Rosales did not answer the telephone but while her vm greeting was playing Robyn F pretended to talk to her and stated "I am on my way home. Make sure the cops are there when I get there? (this statement was made while greeting was playing and was not captured) after Robyn f faked the call, Brown and looked at her and stated, 'You just did the stupidest thing ever! Now I really am going to kill you.'

"Brown resumed punching Robyn F and she interlocked her fingers behind her head and brought her elbows forward to protect her face. She then bent over at the waist placing her elbows and face near her lap and in attempt to protect her face and head from the barrage of punches being levied by Brown. Brown continued to punch Robyn F on her left arm and hands, causing her to suffer a contusion on her left triceps that was approx 2 inches in diameter and numerous contusions on her left hand. Robyn f attempted to send another text message to other personal assistant Melissa Ford. Brown snatched the cellular telephone out of her hand and threw it out of the window to an unknown street. Brown continued driving and Robyn F observed his cellular phone in his lap. She picked up the cellular phone with her left hand, and before she could make a call, he placed her in a head lock with right hand and continued to drive the vehicle with his left hand.

"Brown held Robyn F close to him and bit her on her left hear. She was able to feel the vehicle swerving from right to left as Brown sped away. He stopped the vehicle in front of [address] and Robyn F turned off the car removed the key from inignition and sat on it. Brown did not know what she did with the key and began punching her in the face and arms. Brown began applying pressure to Robyn F left and right carotid arteries causing her to be unable to breath. She began to lose consciousness. She reached up with her left hand and began to attempting to gauge his eyes in attempt to flee herself. Brown bit her left ring and middle fingers and released her. While brown continued to punch her she turned around a place her back to against the passenger door. She brought her knees to her chest and placed her feet against Brown,s body and began pushing him away.

"Brown continued to punch her on legs and feet causing several contusions. Robyn F began screaming for help. And Brown exited the vehicle and walked away. A resident in the neighbor heard Robyn F,s plea for help and called 911, causing a police response. An investigation was conducted and Robyn F was issued a domestic violence protective order (EPO). Affiant conducted an interview with Melissa Ford who advised on Feb. 8 2009 at 2500 hours she received a phone call from Robyn F from an unknown telephone number later identified as the telephone number of Officer Chavez. Robyn F had advised Ford that she had been assaulted by Brown. At approx at 1 am Brown called Ford as nothing happened. Ford advised Brown that she had already talked to Robyn F and was aware of what happened. Ford had advised brown that the neighbors had called police and that they were with Robyn F. Brown had asked Ford if Robyn F had provided police with his name. And Ford advised him that she had. Brown hung up the telephone and did not call back.

"On Feb. 8, Brown turned himself in and was given a copy of the EPO and advised to not contact Robyn.

"On Feb. 17 Ford advised the affiant that she had received text messages from ... a number that Ford recognized as belonging to Brown. In the text message Brown apologized for what he had done to Robyn F. and advised Ford he was going to get help."

.

Ode to the Master Rapper

2009-03-06T14:53:00.011+08:00

3 hours ago, Francis Magalona died of Leukemia.

Usually, things like this make me happy; one less celebrity, meaning more room in the show business for me. But it's Francis M. ; the adorable little creature who sang about how good it is to be pinoy. A little delusional but I like him.

Francis Magalona was a good man. No words can describe my bereavement. My sympathies go out to Pia, Maxx and Saab.

Francis Durango Magalona (October 4, 1964 - March 6, 2009)

Kaleidoscope World - Francis M

You do it like this

2009-03-05T05:37:00.010+08:00

THINGS TO DO TOMORROW:

Buy a really shiny golf club that I can bludgeon Charice Pempengco with.

Find out why.

. . . . .

My friends have been torturing me nonstop with this picture;

But those nymphos don't know anything. I taught my friend Isla how to do the Kristian-pose and look how my genius worked out for her....

Confessions of a Shopaholic is the single most meaningful film in my entire existence. Even that Slumdog twaddle can't hold a candle to it.

To my minions, I advice you to watch this, it's a shaker, completely life-altering. A refreshing break from the convoluted workings of our mind.

.

The Damage Control That Is John Lloyd

2009-03-03T20:16:00.007+08:00

I had a choice.

It's either a film about a blood feud between aristocratic vampires and shapeshifting monsters, or an over-sentimental mainstream romantic comedy all covered up with mush, specifically designed to trick the masses that they can easily snag rich men.

I picked the cheese. I fail as the person I pass myself off to be.

"You Changed My Life" by Cathy Garcia Molina

We see Sarah Geronimo and her usual over the top acting. We start to regret spending money to see her overreact to everything.

The camera zeroes in on John Lloyd Cruz' face.

There's a tacky montage preceding the movie proper. We hear Sarah Geronimo's annoying voice. We purse our lips, crease our foreheads and shake our heads.

The camera zeroes in on John Lloyd Cruz' face.

We see the new Sarah Geronimo for the first time. We wonder why nobody bothered to take that dead thing on her head. There's a collective shudder.

The camera zeroes in on John Lloyd Cruz' face.

We are reminded of how preposterous the whole plot is; rich-gorgeous-boss falls in love with naive-poor-fat-annoying-assistant. Just when the audience were about to roll their eyes....

The camera zeroes in on John Lloyd Cruz' face.

The pinoy Edward Cullen(Raiver Cruz) appears out of nowhere. We get an uncontrollable urge to punch the person seated next to us.

The camera zeroes in on John Lloyd Cruz' face.

We are subjected to an awkward display of affection-driven human contact every 2 seconds. We think of a synonym for "gross".

The camera zeroes in on John Lloyd Cruz' face.

We hear Edward Cullen sing a Jolina Magdangal song with his fat lips as we see Sarah Geronimo in her talong-themed dress. People slowly stand up to leave.

The camera zeroes in on John Lloyd Cruz' face.
The people stay.

Taken from Jessica:

The top-grossing Filipino movie of 2007 Star Cinema’s One More Chance directed by Cathy Garcia-Molina and starring John Lloyd Cruz.

The top-grossing Filipino movie of 2008: Star Cinema’s A Very Special Love directed by Cathy Garcia-Molina and starring John Lloyd Cruz.

The top-grossing Filipino movie of 2009 Star Cinema’s You Changed My Life directed by Cathy Garcia-Molina and starring John Lloyd Cruz.

The Philippine Cinema, ladies and gentlemen.

Quick thoughts about the Oscars

2009-02-23T22:21:00.004+08:00

The academy people are wise. Hugh Jackman rocked all our socks off last night.

The house was filled with talented actors. This was successfully proven when all of them subjected us to a tear-shedding competition at the announcement of Heath Ledger's win.

I think Anne Hathaway went a little overboard with her "i-didn't-win-but-i'm-proud-of-whoever-did reaction. It's either she thought her name was called, or she's simply, in filipino terms, OA.

I rate an awarding ceremony based on the times I wanted to be there. For this one it's 5. Not bad.

Step 3 and 4

2009-02-22T22:54:00.011+08:00

Because I owe the gods a lot of sacrificial human bodies, they decided to punish me and broke my camera. After my second day I couldn't take pictures anymore. I was ecstatic.

The remaining steps need no further explanations.

. . . . .

Note to everyone: When in doubt about what the future holds, you seek clarity in good old Quiapo, Fortune-teller center.

Day 3, in the morning I heard mass with Grams in the church, then had my fortune told.

For a measly 100 pesos your entire future is revealed. Best bargain I ever had.

The fortune teller informs me that I'd die old and happy and that if my cards were played right, I would go places. I flipped her off and told her where she could go.

There is no need to explain my last night in detail. There were packs of cigarettes, alcohol, a lot of nonsense blabber and the Fort.

. . . . .

Day 4 was allotted for pasalubong shopping for where we live, the lack of pasalubong warrants mass murder.

I bonded with the relatives (who are so dear to me).

They were surprisingly fast at putting my baggage in the car when I left. I couldn't think of a better way of telling me how much they enjoyed my company..

The parting of the ways came afterward.

I decided that leaving the metropolis incognito was a must. The heat was searing but what the hell. I marched across the airport under the scorching sun looking like this...

to my fellow deities; stupid farts, you took away my camera but not my notebook.

Rehab over. I'll be back in a few months.

Step 2

2009-02-21T09:16:00.008+08:00

Rehab Day 2:

You're worrying that maybe the root of your depression is the people around you. You test this suspicion by meeting people outside your circle.

What you do is meet up with an old pal and prove that your friends at home make better company. (I'm kidding, JOSEPHINE. i love you)

Your friend tells you she smokes like a chimney.

You don't know what to make of this interesting factoid.

So to recognize her effort of bragging about something unbraggable, you decide to flash her with this look...

You realize afterwards that you need to get a life.

. . . . .

You decide to give a thousand-peso tip to the barista who spells your name right.

Bitch about your stupid camera that won't stop vibrating for no apparent reason.

You realize that if the malfunction persists, you won't be able to take pictures anymore.

You rummage the entire city for arsenic.

Step 1

2009-02-20T10:37:00.007+08:00

Rehab Day 1:

In order to take your mind off your emotional unrest, you present yourself with a newer, fresher and heavier one.

But how?

You throw away money on useless, trivial things and worry about being broke. Then think to yourself that you're just getting started, you haven't even gone to Rockwell or Greenhills yet. Problem solved; now you're panicking for a totally different reason.

It's tacky and distasteful but I promised a play-by-play, and a play-by-play I shall purvey.(plus points on the rhyme)

Obviously I haven't returned to my former, fabulously satirical self. I have 4 more days.

5-day rehabilitation

2009-02-19T09:55:00.009+08:00

I remember telling you I'll find a way to fix my off-phase. Well I've finally figured out a way how....

I left the city.

It's a popular belief among anthropologists that you must immerse yourself in an unfamiliar environment in order to fully appreciate your own.

Let the rehab commence.

Queen

2009-02-15T20:22:00.002+08:00

When skepticism has robbed you of every shred of inspiration you have, you turn to Queen.

to my fans, I'm sorry, I haven't really been myself lately. But i'll be back in shape in no time. For the meantime, please bear with the insipidity that I'd post on the succeeding days. Don't worry I'm trying to look for a way to fix my stupid off-phase. I'll be back soon. You're all beautiful.

btw, the song has absolutely nothing to do with anything. It's just that when you're sad you do what you can to make yourself feel better. In my case it's singing to Queen out loud wearing nothing but a worn-out undergarment.

It's because you never LISSSEN.

2009-02-10T19:07:00.006+08:00

So what happens when all the musical ego in the world is splashed in one relationship?

One ends up mentally deranged and beats the crap out of the other.

After hearing the unfortunate news, I invited my friend over for coffee to check if she was ok.

Rihanna: I have had it with that brainless piece of git! Even my own mother does not lay a finger on me! HOW DARE HE?!

Kristian: Rihanna, Rihanna-my-friend, I told you, anybody who'd wear a purple scarf with a gray shirt is bad news.

Rihanna: but Kristian, Kristian-my-friend, He seemed so sweet and perfect.

Kristian: Oh they're all like that sweetie first they sweep you off your feet then they manipulate you into having nonstop sexual intercourse and once you refuse they throw chairs at you, i mean why did you think I broke up with ScarJo?

Rihanna: You're right, bff. God I'm so happy I have you as a friend. You are so wise, so learned, so rational. I love you.

Kristian: o I know but please, let's not go there, you're not my type.

Meanwhile, the truth about Rihanna and Chris Brown.

. . . . .

HOLD IT!!!!!!!!!!

CHARICE PEMPENGCO IS PERFORMING AT THE OSCAR'S AFTER PARTY?!?!?!???

THAT DOES IT! THIS KID HAS OFFICIALLY STOLEN MY THUNDER!

I know I created a no-murder policy this month but i'm sure one little setback is permissible.

The moment I find out somebody stood up to applaud that little cretin I will have her head on a stick!

.

How many days has it been?

2009-02-08T15:17:00.002+08:00

I've been bedridden for 3 days now and I have yet to see a doctor. If I get diagnosed with dengue, someone's butt is gonna get whooped.

But on the plus side, this blog won something!

It's a voting thing in THE COMPOSED GENTLEMAN'S BLOG. Thanks for the people who believed in me. Even if i'm sure all of them are my friends.

God, headaches make Kristian a dull person.headaches make Kristian a dull person.headaches make Kristian a dull person.

The tomfoolery that is facebook

2009-02-04T07:29:00.007+08:00

To restore my diminished narcissism, I will talk about myself.

The instructions in Facebook say that I'm supposed to reveal 25 random things that people don't know about me. I personally don't see the point since judging by how popular I am, I doubt that there's anything about me you don't know already.

1. I told my friends I'm way too cool to post notes on facebook but the truth is I didn't know how

2. I think I look like John Stamos

3. I secretly want to be called a skinny bitch

4. When I was little, I swallowed bubblegum in front of my friends to show how hardcore I was

5. I still don't know the appropriate use of "whom"

6. When everyone else is asleep, I do an impression of Tyra from that one episode where she lashed out at Tiffany in cycle 4

7. At one point in my life I wanted to be a kabuki

8. I get aroused by midget porn

9. The first thing I do when I wake up is look in the mirror and whisper, "damn i look good!"

10. I've always wanted to go as Marilyn Manson for Halloween. I dropped it because on times that I go as myself, people don't notice.

11. I think butter is the answer to all our problems

12. I have obviously not been taught how to use punctuation marks

13. Every time I see that little "become a fan of the little lulu show" box in facebook, I get nostalgic

14. I believe that if we alter our rice consumption with corn, we would all become the children of the corn.

15. I think, judging from number 14, that I am deliriously funny

16. My jokes are just too intellectual for anybody to understand

17. Up to now, I'm still jealous of Pippi Longstocking's hairstyle

18. I delete contacts from my friends' mobile phones when I feel like it

19. Tom Ford makes me all tingly. ---->ditto on this one, miss piggy ;)

20. My knowledge about Filipino movies will knock you dead.

well, not really--I just couldn't think of a cooler idiom.

21. Up until I was 12, I thought "monarchy" was a kind of bird

22. I think Dita Von Teese is God's greatest gift to the human race.

23. I passionately nod when people get all political on me to look like I actually understood

24. I've been told I sound just like Dan Layus, only sexier

25. I believe that if the art of origami is to be mastered, it could be used to obliterate man

26. Every time I speak my heart out, people mistake it as sarcasm

27. I can move objects using my mind but opt not to just so I could blend in with you humans

28. If I don't say "shallahwalla kula la" everyday, the world would cease to exist

29. I was an agent of the Matrix in my previous life

30. I think I'm a really cool person

.

We can be cool, you know

2009-02-03T18:51:00.018+08:00

You know what would be great?

The Philippines exploding into a million pieces.

See, when all the proof of our existence were to be eradicated from the face of the earth, all that would be left are Filipino movies that made it to international film festivals, which are all homosexual, if not, sex-themed. (plus points to whoever can count the commas in that sentence)

But why the need for a sudden annihilation? Because without which, nobody would notice us. We of course have to create a buzz first.

Once it's done, within no time the world would recognize us. They'd think of probable qualities that set us apart from all the other bland countries. It won't be long before they acknowledge our knack for churning out intellectual porn.

We'd carve our names in history by being the number one contributor of "profound" lust-driven movies; we'd always be known as that sex-starved nation who thrived in making existential quasi-porno films. Imagine having that description attached to our country's good name, forever.

We'd be like the Netherlands (Amsterdam in particular), except more squalid.

. . . .

Meanwhile, Serbis, a Brillante Mendoza film about a family-run adult moviehouse (shocker), gets praised by the foreign lands.

After the wave of negative reviews it had gotten from last year's Cannes Film Festival, Serbis opened in US theaters last week---and they loved it ("they" being movie critics from publications in the likes of The New York Times, LA Weekly, the Los Angeles Times and Time Out New York).

One ought to be proud, except one couldn't because one hasn't seen it yet. There have been talks about banning Serbis to be commercially exhibited in the Philippines. The censors have been led to believe that it's too much for us indios to handle. There's nudity, sodomy, and boil eruptions via soda bottles. We are petrified.

You want a good pinoy porn-ish movie? Watch "Ligaya" Ang Itawag Mo Saakin. If that doesn't make you think I don't know what would.

The nerds are up to something

2009-02-02T18:09:00.011+08:00

I'm starting to think that scientists want to ruin our lives.

First we can't eat meat; it would clog the arteries of our heart; Then we can't smoke, our lungs would rot; We can't drink because our kidneys would collapse; Too much internet and TV would cause our eyes to pop out. ...

....and now we also can neither have sex nor inflict pleasure upon ourselves.

Men who are very sexually active in their twenties and thirties are more likely to develop prostate cancer, especially if they masturbate frequently, according to a study of more than 800 men. [. . .]

Today it's masturbation, tomorrow it's breathing.

Wait a second.....................I'VE GOT IT!!!

I know what those lab geeks are planning! All of them were dorks, yes? So they most likely had sucky lives in high school and now they're using their authority to get back at everybody!

They report presumably false discoveries restricting us to do almost anything ergo forcing us to become immotile creatures so that they could have total control over all of us.

Think about it; they scare us into not doing anything pleasurable therefore making us lifeless slobs completely vulnerable to their impending dominion. And since we're too naive and taken by their confidence to even think about questioning their claims, we gullibly comply with their medical advice (i. e. not do anything). Soon they'll have us eating out of the palms of their hands! Those buffoons!

It's so clever I can't believe I didn't think of it first! Must regroup tonight.

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Mojitos for everybody

2009-02-01T02:26:00.015+08:00

Today marks the first year of my blogging.

Had I contributed anything other than senselessness to the blogosphere, I would've been much, much happier.

I thought of holding a contest to my readers but I realized it's strenuous work to rank just 3 contestants. Especially the 3 who constitute my entire audience.

. . . . .

By the way, along with the unnoticeable changes in this site, I added adsense. It's that little box on the right that says "ads by goggle". Click on any of those and you're rich.

BUT HOW CAN THAT MAKE ME RICH?

Simple, When you click any of those advertisements, I get paid. When I get money, I become happy. When I'm happy, I wont be forced to break your limbs. When your body is left fully-functional, you can earn more money; give it a couple of years and congratulations, you're rich.

Tintin's pornographic potential

2009-01-31T00:47:00.018+08:00

remember The Adventures Of Tintin?

I've the most vivid memory of it for when I was a kid, I was convinced that I was Tintin. I picked up a stray cat to serve as my Snowy, Tintin's canine sidekick (dogs proved to be very uncooperative so I settled with a self righteous gray cat who seemed to have enjoyed the limelight more than I did).

I did all sorts of investigating. At one point I spread a rumor that our next door neighbor was a cannibalistic freak of nature who was responsible for the deaths of 20 people and was secretly in cahoots with the Kuratong Baleleng back in the 90s. She was really old and used to hand out imported candies to kids----Too convenient; she had to be up to something.

My delusions came to an end when I read Harriet the Spy. Since then, I never answered to any other name but Harriet.

Going back to Tintin. I just learned that a film adaptation of the famous comic strip is in the works. Jamie Bell stars while Spielberg directs. The catch is it's going to be in mocap, so to compensate for this, alongside Bell they cast Daniel Craig to portray the heinous Red Rackham.

Think of the possibilities; Billy Elliot's flexibility plus James Bond's testosterone plus Spielberg's majesty......hello, evolution of porn!

A dangerous case of the pretty

2009-01-28T07:33:00.012+08:00

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We grew up believing that in the Philippines, the fathers of the patriarchal system were the Spanish friars. I, on the other hand, know that it's the creators of Fairy Tales who we should have mobbed. The Spanish are merely bearers of the fatal ideologies carried out by imported Fairy Tale books; from which I suspect feminism flourished. Why?

We are all aware of the "downtrodden" fate that our female ancestors have gone through in the hands of the, quote-and-quote, oppressors. Yes, up to now, the patriarchy still exists, subtle but most emphatically present. The question is; should we continue to point our fingers at the Spanish even if they've fled the country a century later? This is where my proposition comes in.

We'll start with Snow White. At the last part of the story, we find Snow White laid in a crystal bed, purposely put out to attract Princes into reviving her. History tells us that Prince Charmings have the ability to restore damaged life forms by just making physical contact on the lip. The women, however, do not possess the same superpower----in fact they weren't given any power at all. This suggests that the male species are more powerful than women, which is point number 1.

Point Number 2; when the "handsome" prince finds our damsel, without any attempt to an inquisition as to why she was laying there, Prince grasps at the opportunity to makeout with an unconscious Princess----clearly without her consent (I hear we have developed a new term for this, I believe it's called "rape"), The prince then ends up being the hero.

After the unbidden smooching, the princess immediately marries the opportunist prince. This tells us what? When you make sexual advances at a girl, you will be rewarded. And sexual harassment is permissible so long as the perpetrator is handsome, catered to by faithful servants and owns a pretty castle.

Meanwhile we have Sleeping Beauty, similar case except her Prince is more perverted for when they were younger, it was evident that he already had erotic fantasies about the infant Aurora.

Then we have Cinderella's prince, who abused his royal powers not only to inconsiderately summon ALL the single ladies from all parts of the kingdom but also to compel whoever fits the glass slipper to marry him. Politically, this implies that in the earlier days, males can abuse whatever power they have to force women into marriage and get away with it.

I assume you all know Prince Eric. Amongst everybody, he's the only potentate I hold personal grudges against because since I was a kid I have been privy to his plot of deliberately putting down Ariel (he's always been jealous of her hair).

First, he endangers Ariel's life by pretending to drown. Used his charm to manipulate the unsuspecting mermaid into going to the seawitch to have her fins exchanged for legs. Then, notwithstanding King Triton's strict orders, he dates Ariel. After all of Ariel's sacrifices he then reveals his true philandering self by flirting with the witch Ursula, and did it in plain sight. Obviously a case of abusing one's prettiness. But all misconduct is condoned when he helped slay the evil witch. Finally he indirectly convinced Ariel to completely give up her princess-ship in Atlantica and marry him. The naive fish happily obliges.

What we can deduce from all this is that it is okay for women to be submissive for they are nothing without a man. That is what Fairy Tales subliminally poison our minds with.

But we have evolved, some of these Princes have been successfully debunked and taken off our reveries. We now face a more serious and unnerving problem; Now, we have been brainwashed that a psychotic, domineering, soap-faced bloodsucker can salvage us from our distress.

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The worst has happened

2009-01-24T22:59:00.015+08:00

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My mother has discovered the internet and is currently occupying herself with Facebook. She contends that social networks are necessary for survival, and the Pope agrees.

I shall now hang myself dead.

Oh but before anything, I have a question:

Why does Donatella keep on doing this to us?

Donatella Versace spotted topless at St. Barth.

UPDATE: apparently not her although we'd like to believe it is. Our days are sunnier when we think it's her.
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Walang agimat ang dugo ko

2009-01-22T23:28:00.021+08:00

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I've always believed that my being born a Filipino was God's way of telling a joke. None of my extra terrestrial characteristics fall upon the Filipino category (save for my unhealthy soap opera fixation, which is hardly Pinoy).

What exactly are pinoys?

This is where the Filipino Elementary School Sectioning System becomes useful; I believe there's masayahin, masipag, matanggapin, mapagmahal, matulungin et al.

No, I don't believe we could sing and dance our problems away, I don't think unlimited texting is the best thing that ever happened to this country. I cringe at the very thought of hospitality, roll my eyes when I see merrymaking over a boxing match and think lechon is murder. I don't have that, isulong-ang-bandera-ng-pilipinas spirit nor do I have compassion for the rural poor (only because physical attributes indicate that I am one of them and I don't yield to self pity).

If colonial mentality were to have legs and were given the ability of speech, I would be it. But that's only because I'd choose being a traitorous wannabe than being a hypocritical robot, any day.

The Philippines is a lost cause, face it, don't be all "it's the government" on me. Bullshit. You could change the entire political system and we would still be neck-deep on debt. Your idealism is cute, but open your eyes and see that you're deluded; we can never rise from this fecal pit, because if we could, we would have by now. The way I see it we have two choices; It's either we embrace colonialism or be left drowning, screaming "IPAGLABAN ANG PILIPINAS! IPAGLABAN ANG PILIPINAS!"

Am I the only one who appreciated the colonizers? Who thinks that without them we would still think fire is the greatest discovery?

Yes, there were development and civilization before the Spanish occupation. We've all been raised to believe that we didn't need colonizing; that the only thing the Spanish have done to us was eat away the little chance we had to prosper on our own---but do you honestly think that we would've gone any further had Magellan not conquered our land? I mean think about it; up to present, our one and only tangible contribution to humanity (without foreign influence) is the nipa hut. That should tell us something. We had to be colonized. NO, we were in desperate need of it.

Without the colonizers we would still worship twigs and rocks, without them we would all look like yetis from the mountains; curly hair, flat noses, clad with ape skin, the rest. We would have primitive sounding surnames and we'd've never learned the universal language which would make it really difficult for us to pretend we belong to the upper class.

Since the conquerors left, we started going downhill at an impressive velocity. And since we wont get off our high horse we started blaming our decadence to the very people who taught us that there are more means of eating than just by hand; "IT'S THEIR FAULT! THEY SHOULDN'T HAVE COME HERE! ANIMALS! ANIMAAAAALLLS!"

Hundreds of years later and we still hadn't shut up, so naturally nothing was fixed; we just griped our way deeper into the pit of doom. Can you imagine what would've happened if we grasped the opportunity to be a colony of the United States? We'd prolly be cool like Hawaii.

But don't get me wrong, I'm not ashamed of the race I was born into, matter-of-fact I've grown fond of it. The oddity of our medieval ways fascinate me. This blog wouldn't've survived had pinoys been anything but what they are. Filipinoism is good blog material.

All I'm trying to say is, I am convinced that I was born into the wrong body. I may wear this incredibly good-looking Filipino human suit on the outside, but I know my soul is purely Slovakian.

At first I wasn't sure, but after seeing Eli Roth's Hostel I've confirmed it; only a true Czechoslovak would have the same twisted psyche as I have.

And now that we've established that I think I'm cooler than everybody, who wants to be my friend?

. . . . .

unrelated thought:

If i was a French bitch who can sing, I would be Lily Allen.

Class Photo

2009-01-21T21:51:00.014+08:00

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I love my Communications class. We recently had a shoot.

This is how it turned out.

...and because I was super tall and good-looking, I was placed at the back where nobody could see because everybody was threatened by me getting all the attention.

I like the outtakes better.

When asked if I want to model for student photographer friends (IT HAPPENS!) my immediate answer usually is, "ok give me a second, no." then I roll my eyes and walk away for dramatic effect. But in a strange, britney-getting-her-abs-back way, I had fun. So maybe I'll rethink those modeling proposals, all one of them.

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oy.

2009-01-18T22:01:00.009+08:00

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Click.click.click

Oprah is on crack?

Filipinos are used to endorse skittles?

Joaquin Phoenix is rapping?

~~Madonna's naked photos are being auctioned off?~~ Someone's willing to shell out cold cash for that old hag's punani?

King nut products are salmonella positive?

There's an imminent face off between Obama and Osama?

Lily allen has a third nipple?!

First Wall St. and now these?

Pinoy Kendi

2009-01-17T09:53:00.005+08:00

FINALLY, something that best encapsulates the very nature of being Filipino.

tnx Cecile. :)
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Bollocks

2009-01-15T18:12:00.006+08:00

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The work of one of my dearest bands is being exploited by a teen-oriented British flick. The coming of age film is called Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging, a nickelodeon produced project.

If it wasn't made in the UK I would personally strangle the genius behind it.

Admittedly it's a potentially entertaining film but that's not enough a reason to stain the good name of my Scouting for Girls! And now dammit everybody will remember them as the band from that British nickelodeon film!

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it's here and it's golden

2009-01-12T21:59:00.010+08:00

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While you Neanderthals celebrate New Year's I celebrate something even more magical called the Golden Globes.

Seeing as I'm the worst pretend correspondent, I will not waste precious time copy pasting the winners here. I will instead redirect you to this SITE.

Not that any of you read my posts but I feel obligated to apologize. I'm only gonna ramble about my post-golden globes contemplations as I have seen none of the nominated films (more and more reasons to love the Philippines).

So here's what I've learned so far; when you're up against anything 30 Rock, don't even bother showing up.

To Robert Downey Jr: Uuuuuyyyy, somebody watched Twiiilight. I'm kidding, I love you----and I don't think you hair's Edward Cullen-inspired.

J. Lo is still ALIVE ?!?!

Dustin Hoffman never gets old. He only gets funnier and funnier every year. We love him.

I like Eva Medes' hair, it's like a bird's about leap out of it any moment.

Jeremy Piven didn't win?! That was unexpected. I blame the mercury!

What is that potato head, Rumer Willis doing on stage? This is not toy story, somebody get that ogre out of the damn hotel!

We love you Colin but please, go easy on the coke.

I think Drew Barrymore and Jessica Lange are doing it.

See, this is why the British The Office is funnier! Ricky Gervais is nuts!

I love Angelina Jolie. She's the only one who can pull off looking bored and get away with it.

THAT WAS NOT SETH ROGEN!

I don't care what you snooty little tramps think, Eva Longoria looked haaawwwwt!

Renee Zellweger: uhmmm....no.

Another thing I learned: In order to be a shoe in on a certain category there's one thing you have to do; you die. I love Heath Ledger, I love the Dark Knight but only an idiot would think death has nothing to do with it. peace.

Hollywood ate the hindu crap like crazy. God they should get a slice of the Philippines,

Naturally, the presence of somebody of Kate Winslet's grandeur would trigger envy-driven violence but last night, even if all the attention to her made me pray for something to fall off the ceiling and knock her unconscious, an emotion more overwhelming took over me; God I love Kate Winslet.

Sacha Baron Cohen is my hero.

So here's the goal for the next few months. Grab a copy of Slumdog Millionaire, The Wrestler and the-ever-so-controversial-since-the-Emmy's John Adams (Yes, I still haven't found a dvd yet)

that's all.

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It's all about the Joel

2009-01-11T19:23:00.002+08:00

Zac Efron channels his inner Billy Joel

Inappropriately funny but i like it. :)

Alright, who let one of them out?

2009-01-09T21:20:00.004+08:00

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4 year old Ethan Crisp shoots his 17 year old babysitter Nathan Beavers when the latter accidentally stepped on the former's foot.

tsk.tskt.sk

This is exactly what we've been trying to avoid when we decided to breed an army of children to aid us with the up and coming götterdämmerung.

But one managed to escape our watch (they've been trained to be cunning that way). And now we risk exposure.

Somebody's getting a spanking later.

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I think it's the mole

2009-01-08T21:13:00.005+08:00

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If there's one thing I learned in my 18 16 years of existence, it is to never EVER underestimate the acting prowess of the majestic superstar slash dealer, Nora Aunor.

Just when you start thinking she's probably dead somewhere, the superstar rises from all the methamphetamine and garners an award for the ever popular, Himala.

The Ishmael Bernal film won the 2008 APSA CNN Viewer's Choice Award last November beating entries such as Akira Kurosawa's Shichinin no samurai (same dude who directed Ikiru which is one of my favorite classic Asian movies), Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon and Hayao Miyazaki's popular animated film, Spirited Away.

You'd think that Pinoys like me would be proud of a cinematic achievement like this pero hinde,

VILMANIANS FOREVER!!!!!

The Brazilian Curse

2009-01-07T22:14:00.008+08:00

I believe it was 3 years ago when the Havaianas frenzy started. In an impossibly short magnitude of time the Brazilian flip-flops managed to successfully stagger through the corporate labyrinth without so much as a break of sweat. And why would it? All it had to do was have a couple of celebrities wear them on public, clip a bloated price tag, add the word "Brazilian" on it and poof! They're not tsinelas anymore, they're havais. In a span of just 3 short years we were all, "Shoes? What shoes?"

When I bought mine 4 years ago I didn't even know how big a deal they were, I just needed something comfortable and easy to wear. Everything about it was enticing; the butter-soft texture of the rubber, the freedom of choosing from hundreds of colors and designs, the fact that you can match it with almost anything.....and then we have the -ties; flexibility, durability, versatility and comfortability.

But over the years they've gradually become indicators of social status; you are labeled by the abundance of your Havaianas. If you possess a pair you're "in"; if you sport them in school you're cool; if you can afford to buy more than one pair you're instantly rich and fabulous. And since everybody wants to be cool, rich and fabulous , lunch breaks became a thing of the past. "Screw the food! Heck I'd sell my first born's kidney if it meant being able to shell out enough cash to get me a pair of those Havais Flash!"

Upon this painful realization I stuffed all my pairs in a box alongside my elephant jeans, sleeveless hoodies, pucca shell jewelry and cutout magazine photos of Jolina Magdangal. There's no way I'd allow myself to be one of these robots; no way I'd let myself become a clone of these tsinelas-crazed oafs. Unlike most of you I refuse to let a piece of rubber be the basis of my definition as a person.

I still can not believe that something so irrelevant can cause this much classism. In the earlier days, wearing slippers on certain public places elicits raised eyebrows, but since the Havaianas invasion, flipflops ceased to become socially unaccepted. Apparently, expensiveness marks the acceptability of an object; you are only looked down if you wear a cheaper brand of flops. Can you see how crazy this all is? Now we let a tsinelas divide the society? Prejudice over a damn rubber? Are we just gonna sit around and not do anything to stop the segregation?

Once you've developed an aversion to Havaianas all its negative characteristics start pouring in;

The continuous exposure of your feet to the sun would cause discoloration;
There's a 60% chance of getting fungi because of the dirt that gets trapped between your toes;
You can make a better use of your money than to buy unreasonably overpriced tsinelas, like, say, feeding the homeless;
You start losing your sense of individuality because everybody wears them;
When you trip on something hard, there would be blood;
People have gone literally insane because of rabies infections. The culprit? Slippers. Try wearing them while being chased by dogs;
You exert extra effort in keeping them in place every time you cross your legs;
When you step on echas (dog poo), there's a more likely chance of physical contact

Hah! I realized something just now! It's no coincidence they're called flip-flops, you know. Define the two separately and you come up with a couple of derogatory terms.

We are the X generation, we like to be defined by the same medium that we use to squish ipis.

sometimes it's the heat, most of the time you're just crazy

2009-01-05T06:51:00.016+08:00

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Why do people who live in tropical countries like going to the beach? It's hot, humid, and teeming with dark, smelly, sun-burnt people who think it's sexy to emerge out of the ocean looking like a prune.

Since I was 10, I've decided that I'm allergic to seawater. I don't understand why you mortals prefer salty, plankton-infested, musty waters when you can attain the same level of refreshment in the comfort of your homes.
If there's one thing I like about going to the beach it's the opportunity to stare into the vastness of the open sea, but seeing that we live in the Philippines, that opportunity is blurred since doing so is impossible without stray dogs trying to do things with your right leg. And besides, people like me are not equipped to handle the intimacy and the mirth that surrounds a place like, *cue horror* the ocean. I've proved this when I went to the beach 2 days ago.

In your typical beach scene you witness a clear manifestation of human joy; children making castles out of sand just so they could have the satisfaction of stepping on them minutes after construction, couples rubbing lotion on each other's chests, life guards trying to make small talk with underage girls in bikinis, dads grilling fish for the fambam and moms playing peek-a-boo with the 1 year old baby-----It's all very cute---I wanted to bludgeon them all to unconsciousness.

I may not be a fan of big bodies of water filled with unidentified aquatic life forms, BUT bathtubs are a different story entirely. I like bathtubs----plus I draw the most soothing baths(bath salts and all; I like it when small particles rub against my thighs). But they're so underrated. It irks me that the beach gets all the glory for providing the same benefits that a bathtub too, can provide. Which is why I can't understand your stupid fascination for beaches.

To my extreme curiosity I did a little research. The top reasons were the water, the sun and the idea of "bonding".

You wanna know what I think? I think you're just not utilizing your household resources properly. It's all in the creativity. See what you do is pull up a lawn chair on a hot Sunday, wait for the sprinklers to go off, get yourselves some mojitos, and for your precious "bonding" time, make fun of unsuspecting neighbors. It's safer, cheaper and face it, you have fun torturing the neighbor.
There you go: heat, water, bonding and inebriation. See? Problem-solved. You fools complicate things so much, you go through so much trouble for the things that you could easily obtain at home.

The most fun I ever had in a beach trip was that one time when I diverted a friend's attention so an accomplice can put sand in her hair.

We are the X generation, we like the beach because we don't mind swimming in our pee.

Amok

2009-01-04T07:47:00.015+08:00

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I don't need you to tell me I'm a conniving self-righteous, condescending dickwad who thinks he's better than everybody. I've known that since I was 4. But see, what I don't understand is, you know I disperse nothing but negativity to the world and yet you keep on coming back to this site to read your ass off.

Unless you're a nosy masochistic idiot then you have no business here. If you don't like what you're reading then, please, PLEASE, make your fat little fingers useful and navigate away from the page. I am dead sick of being told how frigid and inconsiderate I write! Pwede ba? and inconsiderate?! I resent that!

Don't you know that what you read in here is just a speck compared to what it really meant? Are you dumb enough to not figure out this blog is just a tiny tiny peephole to a whole building of destructive thoughts? I write with a freaking halo above my head so please, dont even! I know at times I may seem like a total jerk, but that's only because I am a jerk. Get over it already.

One of the major nuisances in blogging is editing-----editing for the benefit of the people I dont even like. I've become so good at coming up with euphemisms that I don't even know if i'm doing it anymore. You think calling people unattractive is mean? Wait til you hear what I really think about them.

If my thoughts were spoken God forbid the angels descend from the heavens to beat me up with a stick. But even if I'm dying to tell someone how repulsive I think she is, I keep my mouth zipped. And what do I get despite my herculean effort to shut my mouth? A threat to elevate my punishment to permanence if i don't terminate this blog.

And you! You filthy little mongrel! Going to my mother? Seriously?

before I get too carried away ponder on this......

.......my fury has an increasing bodycount.

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How about this for a new year's resolution?

2009-01-01T19:19:00.008+08:00

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I thought I'd share Lilly Allen's cover of Britney's Womanizer for New Year's.

I planned on making a grander post to welcome the year but I realized there's really nothing grand about 2009, seems like it at least. I mean I had food poisoning the first 10 minutes of it, that was a blast.....but it's ok because if I hadn't spent hours throwing up my New Year's eve dinner I wouldn't've come up with my resolution.

The resolution is I'm not making a resolution this year. I've resigned to the fact that people like me are wired to break promises------then eat cheese for comfort. The cosmos would keep on throwing temptations at me anyway, might as well beat it to the punch.

So for my New Year's message:

BRING IT BITCH!

Eureka!

2008-12-30T23:38:00.012+08:00

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So how do how do you fix a hangover?

Take a cold shower
Grab a good cup of coffee
Drown yourself with aspirin
Hydrate yourself with orange concentrate
...and get yourself some Donatella

And what does this tell us?

Half of the Versace Empire's annual profits go to cosmetic surgeons, tanning salons and from the looks of it, oral meds for lip herpes.

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The band of drones

2008-12-28T19:06:00.014+08:00

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Since I was 12 I've been told I was a bum. I sit around not doing anything; I consume half of Hershey's yearly produce; I strain my eyes watching crappy television, land on the couch and order everybody around.

People have neither been subtle nor kind in rubbing this to my face. If i had a cent every time my mom tells me the world would not miss me if the earth cracks open and swallows me alive, I'd be able to pay the Philippine debt.

Bums may seem like total imbeciles but we are not useless. Unlike you, our unproductive-ness promises to bear fruits in the future. What we're doing (the vegging, procrastinating and the constant spacing out) is merely in preparation for something so revolutionary that talking about it will electrify your spine.

While most of you spend your time doing manual labor or scientific research or beating your brains memorizing a bunch of stuff that you really have no use for, we bums gather information; we learn cultures, study lifestyles, scrutinize human behavior, memorize patterns, analyze routines, the whole enchilada!

In the course of watching television we exercise the usually undermined power of observation. And once we master analyzing the predictability of the human mind, we'd be able read your every move making you vulnerable to our attacks when the war starts.

Once our data collection is complete the world will be ours for the taking. You will be no match for our army. Our advanced knowledge will leave you defenseless and weak; we've mastered predicting your thought process already so we can counter attack any offensive strike coming from you.

Once things get ugly who do you think would emerge victorious? The ones whose physical abilities are compromised by daily strenuous activities or the ones who have preserved their strength for battle? Face it, our reserved energy can jumpstart the whole of Las Vegas. We'll crush you like the insects that you are.

Do not make the mistake of deprecating the abilities of a couch potato because for all you know, that potato could be the very cause of your extermination. We may possess the misleading appearance of a pacifist but provoke us once and we'll put your whole existence to oblivion.

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Na-lintikan na!

2008-12-25T13:47:00.012+08:00

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I know I promised no more twilight posts. But last na. You'll understand...

Yes, for Christmas I prayed to my fellow gods to grant me disgust towards Twilight.

But fuck you, you traitors! You didn't have to do this! NOT TO ME! NOT TO MY PEOPLE!

So guess who bought the rights for an official remake of the Twilight series? GUESS.

ABS FREAKING CBN THAT'S WHO!

I've heard about this before and I was like "Right, they'll probably start working on that after they finish the nonexistent pinoy gossip girl"

But guess what I should see first thing this morning on Perez? The post was one of his most emailed posts this week. Everybody and I mean everybody was laughing at the Philippines.

My hair wont stop raising, my entire body won't stop fidgeting, my lips can't relax from shivering and my freaking salivary glands stop secreting enough fluid to wash down the vomit in my freaking mouth!!!

DISGRACE, I tell you, DISGRACE! This is NOT how I wanted Pinoys to be featured on Perez Hilton! Why can't you all be like Mich fucking Dulce? Nakakahiya kayong lahat!

DIRETSO-HIN NYO NGA AKO, MAGLOLOKOHAN NALANG BA TAYO HABANG BUHAY???

UPDATE:

The news was denied. Apparently just a publicity ploy. Typical. Can't say i'm not relieved though.

Solstice ugly

2008-12-25T12:41:00.012+08:00

I was right.

Stupid principal!

2 years ago I was nagged for attacking Santa in my column.

My article could've easily been a cautionary treatise to protect the pristine minds of the students, but the idiot censored the whole thing. Oy.

You mortals never know any better.

Can't you see?

[...MORE HERE...]

. . . . .

Don't go thinking I forgot about you just because I've no access to internet.

I have a surprise for you, my faithful, faithful readers. (yeah, all three of you)

CLICK HERE

Enjoy your Christmas little rodents. ;)

I've been robbed

2008-12-23T15:11:00.004+08:00

Hey kids,

I think I'll be gone for a short while. I've been stripped of all household privileges. I'm breaking the LAW as we speak, merely by using the internet---yeah i know, I'm so badass.

As of the moment I've...

No camera
No internet
No power over the house helps
No means of FREE transportation
No blower (this pissed the crap out of me)
No house key--which implies that if i want to stay out late, I can't come back 'til the morning

aaannd to top all that, I've been asked to move out immediately after the holidays.

Now this feels like Christmas. I love you, Mom.

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knocked up at 1

2008-12-17T21:25:00.013+08:00

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And here you thought you've seen it all.

The headline reads, "Baby, Pregnant at 1!"

What a slut.

BACKSTORY:

I'll try and explain this as succinct as possible because the official article about it is mind-numbingly incomprehensible even for a deity such as myself----containing words like totipotential, blastocyst, monozygotic, diamniotic----clearly not meant for public consumption. Halfway through reading I passed out.

WHAT: 1 year old kid with a growing fetus in her womb

WHERE: Saudi Arabia

HOW: The mom of the baby originally had two embryos but the other one developed inside the uterus of the other fetus, making the fetus inside the baby her twin.

CONSIDERED MEASURES TO BE TAKEN: Abortion.

REASON: The unborn fetus' survival could only be possible if it acts as a parasite sucking the life out of its twin host; by feeding on its twin's blood supply for its own sustenance through an umbilical cordlike structure. As the fetus grows, the baby host deteriorates. (I get it now! So that's where Stephenie Meyer got the idea of Bella's pregnancy!). It all boils down to opportunity cost; who should they forgo?

It is truly fascinating how tricky the human anatomy has become. I won't be surprised if years from now my zit would leap out of my forehead and start begging for peanuts.

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Just like heroin

2008-12-15T19:13:00.008+08:00

I don't even know what to say. It kept me going all day.
crank up the volume for me.

For Twilight lovers and haters alike

You're lucky I don't feel as glum as I did yesterday otherwise you'd be staring at a video about worms crawling inside a live woman's brain.
That eased me down yesterday; the sickness of it all.

But hey, I'm feeling a little considerate today; I figured you wouldn't appreciate the wormfest as much as I did so I settled with this parody instead.

But hell if the morbidity of the worms worked out for me yesterday, it should work out with you just as fine.
After all, you wouldn't even bother reading this if you're not as twisted as I am. It's either that or you're a pathetic little bum devoid of a social life.

Little Ogres

2008-12-14T21:00:00.005+08:00

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WHAT'S THIS?

JENNIFER ANISTON IS WITH CHILD? no strike that, MY EX BEST FRIEND IS WITH CHILDREN?!? 2 freaking---possibly hairy---CHILDREN?!?

That's great; you finally decide to get impregnated now that you've divorced who the world deems as the sexiest man alive. (A rejection that led him to adopt half the population of Africa)

You finally decide to start a family now that you're exchanging bodily excretions with a scruffy little musical fratboy.

You had all the chance in the world when you were with Brad but you chose to be a stubborn little prick.

and now you let this.....sperminate you?

real smooth, Jen.

Next; Shrek.

Note: all speculation. everything is yet to be confirmed----or denied, yet again.

A story...

2008-12-13T23:56:00.006+08:00

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One day you decide that you don't wanna hear an off-key Christmas carol; you realize that being sung to is too much of a discomfort especially after an utterly tedious day;

One day it hits you that there's no stopping a persistent, rugby-starved caroler from extorting alms;

One day you realize that impossibly blinding blond highlights push your buttons;

One day in the middle of traffic, you opt to disregard the singing native jungle boy outside the cab and lock the door;

One day you decide that being given The Finger on a humid Saturday is not amusing;

One day you feel grateful that you didn't throw out a heap of 25-cent coins buried in your bag;

One day you decide to let your instincts overrule your reasoning;

One day you decide not to tolerate insolent, uncouth behavior and give somebody a spanking, so to speak;

One day you open your window, give back the now-spiteful kid The Finger, then throw two 25 cent-coins at his direction in hopes of incapacitation;

One day native jungle boy decides not to take crap from snooty, spectacled passenger;

One day your reflexes suddenly get rusty making it hard for you to roll up the windows;

One day you get spat at by some enraged, possibly AIDS-positive badjao whose running speed is abnormally impressive;

One day you will concoct a vengeful plot so infallible that even the tiniest libag on jungle boy won't survive.

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What's wrong with this picture?

2008-12-11T23:48:00.006+08:00

Oh hello there!

WHAT's WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?

better late than never, eh?

the gloves never come off where I live

2008-12-07T22:30:00.007+08:00

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Today I woke up to howling and the piercing sound of merrymaking. I tried to find out if Odin finally answered my prayers and had bags of gold delivered to my home. But nope, that wasn't it. As it turns out, it was one of those overly-anticipated boxing matches between this Pacman person and some Mexican.

This kind of thing usually ensues violence because I HATE waking up to noise, but oddly enough I found it funny and strangely reassuring, tens of people gathered in a small room cheering their throats out for beefed up fighters beating the crap out of each other. If it weren't for my innate disgust towards boxing and all its triviality I would've completely found the match orgasmic; bloodshed, incessant mauling and two sweaty little nimrods bleeding excessively on the lip? Happy Birthday Kristian!

But no, as pleasurable as it may seem, I simply don't understand the fascination. Big deal, so this Pacquiao character is almost unbeatable. New hero my arse. Any brute with as much luck and practice as he has can also beat up hundreds of goons and emerge unbeaten.
You want a real hero? Google Monique Lhuillier. Her, you can call a hero. Allan Pineda, or that kid Pempengco even; not Manny-doesn't-have-a-fanny Pacquiao. Please. But whatever, you have your heroes I have mine.

Don't get me wrong though, I'm perfectly okay with idea of Filipinos reveling on the torture of another human's soul. In fact, that's precisely what this country needs. Ruthlessness, Barbarianism! Never mind that the only way to elicit nationalism between us Filipinos is to see some crippling and hardcore physical onslaught. The important thing is we have a solid consensus! Who cares if that consensus is constituted at the expense of others, who cares if
we need to see a bunch of Yahoos tear each other apart to feel united, HELL WE'VE TAKEN ENOUGH CRAP FROM THOSE OUTSIDERS IN THE PAST! BRING OUT THE DAGGERS!!! BECAUSE.........

They also come in purple and ugly

2008-12-05T22:49:00.002+08:00

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I was casually skipping along an empty street on a hot Sunday afternoon sucking on a lollipop when I saw it.

For a split second I thought my eyes were deceiving me. I felt my stomach churning, beads of cold sweat suddenly start forming in my creased forehead. My mouth involuntarily opened to an extent enough to drop my lollipop.

I stood steadily in front of the light post, awe-struck with befuddled eyes wondering how this could happen. I blinked once to check if my visions were accurate. Nothing changed; there it was, just a few feet away from me, a poster showing me the one thing that could kill my misery.

I've never approved of singing purple dinosaurs in the past; it goes against my whole belief system but Barney is coming to the city and I knew, I knew that if my existence depended on it, I CAN NOT MISS IT. I've never liked that manipulative little whore; he scared the crap out of me as a kid but I know that no amount of indignation can keep me from seeing him. I have to, I just do!

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List

2008-12-02T22:32:00.005+08:00

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Mortals,

If you want me to postpone the total annihilation of your race this coming holiday season, I advice that you get on my good side. Any of these will tickle my fancy. I'm giving you the liberty to choose anything from the following and offer it to me on the mountains the moment you read this. Give me half of these and maybe, just maybe, your family will be spared from the wipeout, all things considered:

The first 5 issues of The Sandman by Neil Gaiman
Interview With a Vampire: Vampire Chronicles vcd/dvd---or the actual novel by Anne Rice.
jodhpurs/ hammer pants / parachute pants
a Haruki Murakami book
The Doors album
A copy of Dante Alighieri's The Divine Comedy
Puma First Round (damn you gilly! yan tuloy nainggit ako! i want one in deep red! bwisit na lungsod toh!)
The Kills album (preferably Midnight Boom)
those Laura Hollins tees that i blogged about
one of those colored crystal cases for my laptop
a kickass pipe
season 2 dvd of Skins
a copy of Ticket to Ride (the book, not the song)
An Anna Nalick CD
The Kooks, Agyness Deyn, Scouting for Girls, the whole cast of Gossip Girl, her majesty the Queen of England and Woody Allen at my dinner table on Christmas Eve.
The Virgin Suicides (the book and the dvd both)
inner peace.... or a nifty bow tie. same diff.

I will be updating this every now and then. In the unlikely event that some relative or worse, one of my parents stumbles across this---This does not, in any way, apply to any of you. You all know my bank account number. It's Christmas for pete's sake, it's the only time of the year when your stinginess is inexcusable.

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Read it and weep

2008-12-01T19:15:00.013+08:00

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I knew at some point I had to find a way to rebut myself. So I caved, I read the whole thing.

Five things I confirmed after finishing Twilight

Stephenie Meyer likes her characters chuckle. Half the time her characters were chuckling. Chuckle-chuckle-chuckle....for a moment I thought that was all there is to it.
It's a novel for the young and the stupid. For one, the choice of words can't be more common, not once did I try and reach for a dictionary---and I know that technically this is a good thing considering that the target demographic originally is teenage readers but by God! The repetitive overuse of the words chagrin, reproach, wary, and wistful in every chapter is beyond considerable.
The complications were stupid; no sense of profoundness AT ALL. (Save for the occasional bombshell revelations which knocked me breathless after reading them)
The plot is so flat; no divergence, no confusion. where's the challenge in that? Whenever I attempt reading Marquez, more often than not I find myself reading the same chapter over and over again.
Meyer has a knack for coming up with the most insipid chapter titles.

Then there are the good things.

I love Alice Cullen. Why the fuck was her twist not included in the movie? You show us a close up of Robert Pattinson's facial pores for almost 2 hours and this you deprive us. nice. That could've easily been you're saving grace, you just had to screw it up.

I wanna be a Cullen. The Cullens' history was the only thing in that stupid book that got me really hooked. I couldn't help but picture out how everything looked like in the early 1900's, not just that but the history of the vampires altogether. It's like the same feeling I got when I first saw "Interview With a Vampire". Oddly, I felt....nostalgic.

It's easier to understand the novel's appeal to raving tweens now that I've read it. Meyer writes in extremes; there are times when you just wanna grab a hardbound book and pound it on her head saying "DANG IT WOMAN CAN'T YOU WRITE ABOUT ANYTHING OTHER THAN MUSH?" . And then there are those lines that even the shortest hair on your nape rises as you read them. Those occasional steamy sitches that send shivers down your spine just by imagining it. The pre-baseball scene is a case in point. DANG they should've slipped that in the movie. It is only during those times that Meyer redeems herself. There's erotica then there's titillating bedward moments.

. . . . .

Flightless Bird American Mouth has been fucking my life since the first time I heard it. In my lame attempt at getting immune to its unexplainable effect on me, I tried sleeping with my earphones on while listening to it over and over again hoping the frequency would wipe off the strange feeling that consumes me each time I hear it.

Then I wake up, not in my room but in Forks. The gloomy, eerie, goddamned of a place, Forks. I was flying, overseeing the trees like in the movies. Then I was gone. It was dark and interestingly enough Ed Westwick was there, laughing at me. Then it shifted, I am now in the woods, with trees that extend until the limits of my vision. Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart are leaning against a silver Volvo, snickering and whispering to each other, staring at my direction.

Then I wake up in my room. It is 5 am and the song is still playing in my ipod, it's freshly charged so the battery's still half full. I realized then that the stupid song was mocking me, playing with my subconscious. I couldn't go back to sleep----primarily because I felt genuinely sad, like I've been drafted to a place away from home, from familiarity; like I'm in the wrong place and time.

It was the first time in my entire chimney life that I bummed a cig first thing in the morning. That's how screwed over I felt and that's when I decided that I should kill this stupid nonsense and try to confirm that that stupid novel is indeed, trash. I finished Twilight in approximately 1 day. And I'm the slowest reader on the planet. That should tell you something.

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Ang amoy ng kadiliman

2008-11-28T21:48:00.002+08:00

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Habang isinusulat ko ito ay nakaupo ako sa isang kapehan at mtatagpuan sa aking likod ay isang dayuhan na sa tingin ko ay taga ehipto, base sa kanyang kulay at amoy. Hindi ko na kaya ang anumalyang ito, gusto ko nang umalis subalit may hinihintay ako at ksalukuyang walang ibang bakanteng la mesa. Tinanong ko ang serbideor kung maaaring ipalipat ang aking mesa
sagot nya'y "hindi ko po alam". Napakatalino, ang sarap nyang paghampas hampasin.

Akoy kinikilabutan sa dayuhan, labindalawang dangkal lamang ang layo namin sa isa't isa kaya pati libag nya ay nasingot ko na ata. Hindi lang iyon, sulyap pa sya ng sulyap sa aking isinusulat akala naman nya'y hindi obvious. Kanina ko pa idinarasal na umalis na ang lintik na echas na to. Nasusuka na ako at nawalan ako ng ganang ubusin ang aking strawberry shortcake.

Sinubukan kong manigarilyo upang malunod ang baho ng dayuhan ngunit sa aking pagdadalamhati ay hinawakan nya ang aking braso at nakisindi. Ako ay nataranta akala koy matutunaw ang aking braso subalit higit pa ang nangyari, sa aking kilabot ay namatay ako't biglang nabuhay sa bangis ng kanyang hininga; ngayon ay alam ko na ang amoy ng kadiliman.

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the beautiful and the fangless

2008-11-27T19:02:00.015+08:00

3 months ago:

I know I'm not really qualified to critique any novel due to my questionable taste in books, BUT then again, I can always use my entitled-to-my-own-opinion card. And unless I give my final judgment on the movie, no fuck-you-you-have-no-taste-in-books comments yet.

I may not be a bookworm but I am a voracious plot-summary reader (It's all about the gist, people). I can tell if something is recycled.

Maybe my aversion towards it has something to do with the book being a threat to the Harry Potter legacy. Twilight has in fact been rumored to have surpassed the Deathly Hollows sales.

See, I have this weird disorder of abhorring anything that people compare Harry Potter to----be it in a form of a book or motion picture. Do you know that up to now I haven't seen any one of the Lord Of The Rings trilogy? It came out when the Harry Potter movie was at its prime. I smelled a potential thunder-stealer so I've been boycotting it for years (save for Tolkien though, whom I consider a literary genius, and besides the novels came out decades earlier than the HP series, it's the LOTR movies I hate, not the novels) [more...]

. . . . .

I am not a sellout, I did say months ago that I was gonna watch it and watch it, I shall.

let's try and dissect all the thoughts I had:

Hair weave, seriously? You're better off as Sharkboy, Taylor.

Oh I get it! that's where Snow White's family went.

You almost got me, but you wiped off the little interest I had by putting all those tacky short clips about the bloodsucking and the supposed flashbacks

Old school rock and roll I can stand, but country music? COUNTRY MUSIC?!?!

LAY OFF THE SKIN WHITENING PRODUCTS!

Is it physically impossible to hire a better looking muse? If the book says Bella Swan is beautiful then god dammmit find SOMEBODY BEAUTIFUL!

that's great, encourage pedophilia.

Isn't it a little too early to be handing out cheese? From what I hear, the novel has more to offer than just mush.

OK let's not be biased. I know I sound totally unreasonable for somebody who's only read the first 6 chapters of the book. It's not my fault if I've convinced myself that by reading any further I'd develop cancer. It's also not my fault if I am wired to shun anything that may potentially damage the Harry Potter prestige.

I hate to admit it but it has some good points. It isn't nearly as bad as I expected it to be(movie-wise of course)

I was a little uneasy with the skin color, the overuse of lip products and the flatout fact that they all look like walking ghouls but the whole abnormally pale look grows on you.

OK, overlook the fact that it has the True Blood feel into it, I gotta say, excluding fangs in the whole vampire image WORKS. That's about the most commendable part about it.

I'd want to scrape my tongue and slice it into pieces after saying this but MAN I WANT TO BE A CULLEN!! Finally they've perfected the visual manifestation of the American beauty. Everybody's impossibly pretty. Although I did expect Henry Cavill (Charles in the Tudors) to play Carlisle Cullen! tsk. Peter Facinelli's not so bad though. He did elicit a lot of frantic cries in the cinema.

I had my doubts about Robert Pattinson but hey, the dude lived up to the hype. Athough I can't stop thinking what if Chace Crawford and Leighton Meester played Edward & Bella; woulda been a helluva lot better if you ask me.

Director Catherine Hardwicke knows what her audience is looking for. I now know the number of Robert Pattinson's facial pores. Don't get me wrong, the close-up shots work, I should know because I've gone deaf from all the shrieking.

Ok as perverted as it sounds, the kissing scene really worked out. Not putting a mushy love song on the background was a struck of genius. The scene was HIZ-OT! and I'm pretty picky when it comes to make-out scenes.

That one scene in the woods, when the both of them were lying down, one word; peaches.

You know what I really like about this movie (I try to restrain myself from saying "novel" because I've condemned it more than i've condemned lucifer), it created a new formula for teenage romance, And I'm not talking about the you-and-me-against-the-world drivel or the ever popular you-can-get-me-in-trouble-but-i-love-you-anyway meshuggeneh...none of those crap.

See, in most teenage-oriented, high-school-set flicks, there's always a new girl. Then famous jock falls in love with girl; famous jock happens to have a girlfriend who "coincidentally" is the cheerleading captain; cheerleader then plots a nefarious revenge against new girl but new girl surpasses it; gets a makeover and snags the smart-funny-perfect guy. It may have resemblances but the twilight plot is completely different. There's a new girl alright and there's a handsome prince, except the prince is a brooding, mysterious, tormented, unbelievably red-lipped blood-sucker. And no girlfriend, only a posse of extremely goodlooking "siblings", which, if you ask me is thrice as intimidating.

I'm not even sure what to feel about Twilight right now. I've always been one who expresses sheer hatred every time some random tween breathes "Edward Cullen" near his face but now that I know that it goes beyond the human-vampire romance (i.e. the vampire-werewolf adversarial affair which roots back to God knows when), I gotta say I got a bit interested; nothing strikes my interest better than hairy mythical creatures. Eh what the hell, I'll read the whole book. I will let you know what I think after finishing it, which judging by the time I finished American Gods, would be next year.

Namaste bitches.

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They believe in you in Thailand, don't they?

2008-11-21T19:41:00.008+08:00

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Dear Santa,

Give me these Aggy tees for Christmas and maybe I won't blow up North Pole this December..

You have your minions, get them to find these for me. I would have sexual intercourse with the ~~elf~~ little person who could give me these. Male or female, man or animal, living or dead.

The last time I didn't get what I want the 9/11 attacks happened. fair warning.

Love,
Kristian

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Mad Hatter

2008-11-19T21:40:00.009+08:00

OH MY GOD! IT'S IN PRODUCTION BITCHEZZZZZ!!!!!

While I stand firm on my belief that Alice in Wonderland is the work of the devil, I would gleefully watch anything touched by Tim Burton especially anything that has Helena Bonham-Carter, Anne Hathaway and Johnny Depp in it.

It's post Sweeney Todd so let's hope the creative juice is still hot and flowing. His adaptation of Alice in Wonderland is said to be half live-action and half performance-capture. I'm a little doubtful with the mocap but hey, it's Tim freakin' Burton, anyone who can make something as beautiful as Edward Scissorhands can pull anything off. Let's just offer eggs to the gods and ask them to not make this a big joke, like, say, The Sky Captain and The World of Tomorrow, whose title is longer than the movie.

Man I can't even begin explaining how giddy I feel about this. The first time I found out that Burton is doing it I swear I had a tiny orgasm.

Johnny Depp has never looked hotter.

Count the days bitches, the Mad Hatter awaits.

condom-stealing bandits

2008-11-18T20:02:00.007+08:00

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random story.

One early morning, on the way home, this moron comes up to me and a couple of friends and accuses us of stealing condoms.

I hate when that happens.

flashback.

Some 2 years ago around Christmas, Dr. Teeth, Lady Totoro and I found ourselves drenched with rainwater in the middle of the city. We have been flagging taxis for almost a half hour but to no avail (let me tell you something about Philippine cabs. They have this unspoken protocol of asking for the passenger's destination first, and if the cabbie incidentally is headed to the same direction, they will let you in their vehicle--- and sometimes if you're really lucky they'll even keep the change without your consent)

It was already 3 in the morning and the city was experiencing some sort of hurricane (Of all the days the weather bitch blabbed about a bunch of lies on TV, today was the day she actually told the truth) We were dripping wet and can't feel our asses because of the ridiculously low temperature. Due to desperation we decided to trudge to the nearest inn (which incidentally was a popular motel) and check ourselves in.

Since the place has a pay per hour system, we estimated our resting time and told the receptionist that we'll get off at exactly 7. (I mean check out, you sick perverts)

If there's one thing we know about this place it's that it has been rumored to have hidden security cameras behind the mirrors. While some may find this abusive and disgraceful, It came to us as a blessing; to throw the employees off from thinking that we're a bunch of maniacs about to have an orgy, every now and then I would stand in front of the mirror and inconspicuously whisper "don't worry, I'm not a nympho, we just need a place to crash"

The bed was comfortable.
The three of us got a decent shut eye.

Come seven thirty we checked out and found ourselves snug inside a cab, ready to leave that sad excuse for a love-dungeon, but even before the cabbie could turn the ignition this attendant stops us and asks us to pay an extra 50 pesos for using one of their contraceptives. For short, we were accused of using condoms and not paying for them. Because everybody was so cranky I stepped up and handled it like the diplomat that I am. I asked the attendant to check again. Immediately after he stepped inside the room I told the driver to step on it or else we get off the cab------but he listened. smart fella. the attendant never saw the light of day.

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