scenrealt/ scenarios for reaction alternatives

I Invented Post-its

2011-11-14T11:02:00.022+08:00

If you’re ready to throw in the towel, can you at least say that, as a living organism, you've ‘made it’?

“And until you told me that our lives weren’t good enough, I thought everything since high school was a blast…”

-Michelle Weinberger, Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion

In one of those exchanges of cerebral inputs, I found myself shocked to discover that, despite his achievements he collected through the years, my friend still thinks life has overcome him. Over Rum shots, another buddy, fessed up his frustration towards still not making it. And by that, I truly think he’s referring to some sort of a Kurt Cobainish kind of thing. You know, wherein he’s supposed to achieve rock cult superstardom and just die. God forbid.

But what exactly does making it means?

I made it through college despite being myself. That in itself is worthy of a celebration. Ramona made it through Turkey despite security. She even made it through life despite looking like a boy. With humongously big bones (redundancy needed). And that hobo man from across the street made it through the rain last night. In fact, he’s still making it, dirty disheveled clothing/messy surfie hair and all, as we speak.

This got me thinking, if the proverbial making it has turned itself into being more than just a fad; has our generation just found itself in an era in which dreams are supposed to be within reach but not? Have we become deludanoids?

Tone deafs are auditioning in almost all singing competitions. Self-explanatory.

Everyone tag themselves ‘models’. Uh no hon, maybe someday when you can finally work on your height, or angles… or face.

Anyone who’s got a fancy camera label themselves ‘photogs’. Then quit using that auto function for chrisfuckingsakes!

Even people who graduated from some token far-flung branches/’sister’ (yeah right) schools of certain colleges develop that audacity to say that they went to this school and that. I say ‘UP Diliman is UP Diliman. And UP Los Baños is UP Los Baños. And whatever UP system you’re from, that’s where YOU’RE from. Don’t push it..”

Blame it on American Idol. Seriously, do we really want to put ourselves in the company of William Hung, Bikini Girl, and Tatiana Del Toro?

My point exactly.

Then why is everyone so caught up in making it big and measure up to great expectations?

Romy and Michele went to their 10-year high school reunion claiming they invented Post Its. Romy was a cashier. Michele was unemployed. And until Romy told Michele, that their lives weren’t good enough, Michele thought life since high school was a blast.

So who gives a flying fuck with what everyone thinks? Beavis and Butthead, I saw them recently, and they seem happy and content watching tv and making fun of Jersey shore. Now, would we really want to be labeled as that bloke who really tried so hard to make it and didn’t that he killed himself or that funny guy who made it in life having fun?

Because at the end of the day, it all boils down to what having ‘made it’ means for you.

Staying Too Close To the Sun

2011-08-08T08:27:00.008+08:00

What about Icarus? He had a lot of that hubris. Daddy warned him not to fly too close to the sun coz that was territory reserved for the Gods. But he paid big daddy no mind and ended up frying like a hush puppy.

-Mary Cherry

IT was a match made in heaven. Mere mortal snagging up one of the one heck of a sex goddess, how lucky can he get? Slamming body, check. Bangable, double check. Nothing could ever go wrong with the juxtaposition of the two parallel worlds right?

Well, that’s what Andrew (not his real name) thought at the time. The shagging was incredible, that’s all that mattered. “Never minded the hating,” he says. For all he cared, he had every man’s dream by his side. And he was, in all positions, happy.

Then the hating never stopped.

Why is she dating him? Has she gone blind?

She’s just far too pretty for that guy.

And well yes, for some time, they managed to survived the scrutiny the eyeing public. Then broke up. Hooked up again. Then broke up again. God knows what they are now.

It seems that, it all boils down to this; After centuries of questioning the norm and courting the public, from Ric Ocasek & the perfect specimen that is Paulina to Sam Ronson and the ambiguous in terms of choosing which team to bat for, Firecrotch LiLo, the world is still not at ease with interfacial relationships.

Word is, you better stick to your own kind. And not aspire for something greater.

But can’t a person just try to switch it up a bit?

“It depends,” Mary (not her real name) says. “…on what kind of switching you’re referring to. Personally I abhor any person trying too hard to rub it on everyone he’s better than everyone else intellectually, coz most of the time, he’s not.”

Tell me more about it.

Oh I know that story. I’ve encountered that kind of mortals before. You know, people who don’t have anything else going on in for them that they’ve reduced themselves into just proving their intellectual worth which most of the time just backfires anyway. Unintentionally, that redflag just shows itself up, along with their shortcomings. The more they try too hard, the more everyone’s gonna feel sorry for them.

Weren’t they hugged enough as a kids that the only thing their good at is alienating people?

But shouldn’t we commend people for reaching higher intellectual heights?

Not if they’re immature, callow, know-it-alls. I’ve met far smarter individuals whose IQ scores are something I could just dream of having, and they don’t go out of their way to show everyone how rocket science is just a piece of cake.

At the end of the day, if a person is smart like he say he is, he needn’t shout it out to the world. If you’re one, then you’re one.

In ancient Greece, overestimation of one’s own competence and capabilities was a crime. The very act of hubris would lead to one’s disembowelment or something. Like, something more tragic and gory. I’m thinking, Saw. And actually laughing at the thought.

I'm pretty sure loving someone way higher in the hotness meter scale isn’t a crime. But it sure does inspire cluster headaches from haters, rivals, and the judging eyes of world. That in itself is, I believe, enough punishment from the gods already. But who wouldn’t want to hook up with a supermodel anyway?

Back to those trying hard to be smart mortals, word of advice; we all know what happens to the flies that get too close to the light right? Most of the time, electrocuted.

Stuck on You.

2011-07-12T22:36:00.009+08:00

When everyone else has moved on, why haven't you?

Let’s lay out all the facts. For whatever reason you messed up, grew apart, called it quits or just couldn’t do that “long distance thing”. Bottomline is, you broke up. Moving on just as easy as 1,2,3 right?

Well for Blanca (not her real name) it isn’t. It’s been 8 months and she’s still hasn’t get past over that stage wherein you have to either have to get drunk ~~and hook up with some random person in the bar~~ or wallow for an entire weekend. Yes, she’s been wallowing that long.

“I missed the bus” she says, referring to why she’s still stuck on to the past. “And I don’t have a ticket for the train… and yeah, I sound like a burned out emotional mess.”

It got me wondering, where in the world were her so-called friends when she needed to get drunk?

It actually takes Adele’s 21 a 48:12 of runtime to get her point across that yes, she’s mad as hell she could kill from the break up (Rolling in the deep) to she’s finally gotten over it (Someone Like You). And even less if you choose to play just the two tracks respectively. A frigging 48:12, that’s all it takes, but why does it feel like your quitting alcohol? It’s better said than done.

“It’s far worse that you can imagine,” says Jay (not his real name), another wedged soul in the purgatory. “Especially when mind gaming comes into play, it’s like, ‘can somebody pass me that mind condom?’ sorta thing. Getting mind fucked has got to be the worst feeling in the world ‘cause you’re just totally confused.”

Jay actually, as of recently, did that drastic move of moving to another geographical location thinking starting anew would leave certain things behind.

“Dude so how’s that working for you so far?” I ask.

“It’s cool man. Everything’s just kinda falling to where it should…”

“And well?”

“Well, there will be things once in a while… and it’s a process”

“And?”

“Well… FCUK! I still think why head-screw when you can just screw?! Sucks man. Sucks that I had to leave but I just couldn’t stay... [it] just isn’t healthy anymore for me”

Hahaha! Now were talking.

Jay is a living testimony that no matter the gargantuan amount of booze you devour, it still isn’t enough to blot certain things sway. He was a boozehound, probably still is, and yet for him, some things are gonna be so hard to forget that he had to leave. So much for having a penchant for the physical and not the emotional.

Then you ask, all these pain, the drama, aren’t all these just well… self-inflicted? Bad situations need serious coping. Throw in the masochistic tendency, then you get perfect human samples to to future 'remember the time when ' jokes.

It may not be funny now, but it will be for them, when they finally cross that line.

Another noteworthy fact is that Blanca and Jay are on the opposite poles of the spectrum. One had to wallow while the other, boozed for months, and yet none of the two ways actually worked. In that case, what would then be the best route to get to that other side?

Jay took the boat. Maybe Blanca should too… And perhaps while she's on it, she should listen to 21 as well.

Clitoral Thinking

2011-06-14T17:12:00.006+08:00

Like most Filipina of her generation, Olive (not her real name), 20ish, knows good sex, and would rather not talk about it. It’s a Pinay thing. But unlike most supposed to be sexually “active” Pinays, as of recently, here’s the sitch; she just wasn’t getting any.

07:05:12 am

jaime..

02:39:16 pm

jaime, I did s0mething realy crazy.

02:43:50 pm

hahaha. threes0me..

Oh no she didn’t but oh yes she just did. She was finally getting some again. I woke up, browsed through my phone and holy schmoly, Olive just had her first threesome.

03:02:58 pm

I felt a hint of guilt… but d idea of threes0me, n0t a single bit..

Geez Olive, I could really feel your devastation. I would’ve thrown her a party

Why of course, a story is only as interesting as its details. Why and how it happened, let’s just say she and the other party felt a connection she haven’t felt in a long long time. Okay, horny. And the third wheel just happened to be there, what supposed to be the lone audience to their execution of carnal hunger, decided to join in on the fun. That brings a whole new meaning to audience participation.

Having been told vividly and horridly the straight out of porn shenanigan, especially from a female perspective, it got me thinking. Could it be that the clit is the new cock?

Venus (not her real name) was a girl I met from one of those “research” on nightly dispatches at college watering holes. When got so hammered by rhum, she told me that guys she’s recently been with, literally ran off, running for their life just because they couldn’t keep up with her. At first I thought she was joking. Turned out she wasn’t.

After a few more meet ups, and getting even more hammered than the last, she wound up confessing she haven’t had orgasm for ages. In my mind, images of Linda Lovelace from Deep Throat, the movie about a girl discovering her clit is on her throat, played in slow mo. But let’s be serious. It couldn’t be, now could it?

“Jaime, remember that guy who came up to me earlier?” Venus says. “He’s the guy who ran off. Pussy.” From then on, I knew that the smartest thing a guy should do in the midst of Venus, when everyone calls it a night, is to just go home. Alone.

If our boy-parts heads below gets rushes of blood from time to time, so does its female counterpart. When it comes to classifying Venus, she’s not a sex machine, she’s a flytrap. (Just a fleeting thought; Wouldn’t it be rad though that after doing Venus, and you did good, got her toes curling, you get a shirt saying “I survived Venus Flytrap. And lived to tell the story…”) But certain things need certain machines for drilling. Thou shall not bite more than you can chew. If your tools aint tuned up, then you might just want to fahgettaboutit.

She comes with a warning. Enter at your own risk. Proceed with caution.

It’s amazing how some modern Filipinas are these days. I encountered a skank once, next thing I know, she’s critiquing my art. Secretly I cried foul, because that’s what us guys are, dicks with humongous egos. More than that, I figured it was inappropriate for someone known as their college whore critiquing my works when the only thing she’s known for is being the entire college’s lay. Go back to your usual corner whore of Babylon.

And so I asked Mikky (not her real name), a recent explorer of the non-virgin territory, if there is some sort of truth to my theory. “saba oi! Buang,” she texts “beat the heat :3”. Translation: “Yes Jaime we are just horndogs as you guys.” Don’t you just hate it when girls have to code-speak. It makes us guys to put on that extra effort to decipher simple things like a yes or no. Like every Filipina, does she really have to give some indirect affirmation? But at least I got my yes.

Yes generations do change. With the exception of a classmate back in sophomore year, I haven’t seen a girl in a long skirt and long-sleeves in ages. Thank heavens for that! And while some are for the better like Olive who would act out smut scenes from time to time, then comes in a curveball like a stuck up whore who has to just have to have a say in everything. Venus the flytrap is debatable.

I remember telling Olive what she did was perfectly normal and it’s just one of those things she’ll think fondly of when she’s all wrinkly and stuff and hopefully still getting some action… that back in the days, when being drunk leads to doing the nasty, she was getting some, like crazy.

03:10:53 pm

ma0 gyud! hehehe. it was just one weird drunk nyt. Hehe

You're A Pussy

2011-05-19T18:51:00.017+08:00

After decades and decades of instilling in our pop-culture subconscious that rock–hard abs and even harder guts gets all the glory, have we failed what Rocky and Rambo?

Three months ago, things weren't going well for my friend Will (not his real name). Mastering the art of slactivism to its purest form and embodying doucheness in its truest sense, he was leading what seemed to be the road towards possible perdition when he accidentally broke it off with his girlfriend… a day before valentines.

You’re thinking, a total jerk-off right? I mean, who does that?

But let’s cut the guy some slack and give him the benefit of the doubt that there is deeper reason on why he had to call it quits on what his girlfriend would consider as the most important day in February, aside from the premiere of what would then be a badly-acted, poorly-received Machete. Like, she wasn’t flexible enough or she wasn’t as enthusiastic in giving head as he was on going down on her or she’s just plain lousy. Whatever his reason was, I’m sure there was one… or two.

So it came off as a surprise, well, actually no, when his text message reads “Yawa k.hilak ko blue valentine. I’m afraid of this fuckd up shit bai.” I was like, dude, seriously? Who would ever cry to Blue Valentine? Was it because of the mere sight of Michelle William’s cute white ass or was it because of the beauty that was Michelle William’s cute white ass? I could not think of any other reason.

“I feel s0ry f0r myself f0r being so dumbass fuckng in l0ve… Sakit bei. Di ko ksab0t…I l0ve d girl so much nd there’s n0thing that I can do but to just suck it up,” he continues.

Wait, isn’t this supposed to be Will, my friend, the jerk-off who dumped his girlfriend, a day before Valentines?

I’m thinking, what a pussy.

Episodes like Will’s have been infecting my friends lately like it’s some kind of epidemic. Take John (not his real name), for instance, 23 years young, intelligence off the scale, and currently enrolled at a graduate school. In other words, nerd… In recent years, he was making a name for himself, appearing in local dailies and getting recognition, calling himself a semi-celebrity, shit like that. Last year he topped a licensure exam.

Is there anything this wonder boy couldn’t do, you ask? Us, friends of his know better. But let’s just leave it at that.

“Say dude, theoretically, if bigwig comes up to you and asksyou to consider working as a segment producer for a certain show you’re a big fan of, would you consider?” I ask.

“I don’t know what a segment producer does, but I know I’m gonna be good at it,” he replies.

You’re thinking, dick right? Apparently humility is something he’s really good at.

The harrowingly fine line between confidence and cockiness can be really tricky and, obviously, despite his immensely high IQ, the guy’s not fully aware. But then again, why should he when he can effortlessly just, as Beyonce puts it, back it up? Simply put, Kanye can be *coughs dick what he is because he is Kanye.

But brilliance has its price. When you’re at a point in your life wherein you’re young, so full of promise, got virtuosity written all over you, how can you top yourself when you already set the standard yourself?

It was during one of those times he chats me up on facebook, asks me what I was up to and I tell him “Nah, same old same old” and he then tells me how my life sucks… when it was pretty obvious he was envious of the flippancy I had towards life simply because I was drunkenly having fun. He was not.

“I think my life has overcome me… Sure I was making things but that wasn’t what I just wanted to be...” he whines.

Wait, isn’t this supposed to be my friend, John, the huge ego who, whether we like it or not, had every right to be one, the Renaissance man whose bravura I respected so much, and the guy who makes his batch mates secretly feel what we’re doing must not be enough?

Again, pussy.

For Jaime (his meddle name), a badass bonito dork who spends his day contemplating for world domination, got himself what he calls the chance of a lifetime; the big break he rightfully deserves; and, most importantly, every haters worst nightmare.

”Jaime! Asan ka na ngayon? I need a segment producer na adik sa survivor for this season,” Daniel (not his real name), the big boss, offers.

OMG, right?

He neither confirmed nor denied this, but knowing how big of a fan he is of the show, I’m pretty sure his lacrimal glands provided more than the needed eye lubrication the minute he got the message.

But for some reason he didn’t want to elaborate, the last time I checked on the ultimate fanboy, he said he’s no longer going. At least for now.

But wait, isn’t this supposed to be the Jaime, the pinnacle of hot dorkiness, the perfect combination of wit, humor and looks, and the self-obsessed Survivor god, not pursuing his dreams of world domination and unrequited behind-the-scenes stardom?

Another pussy?

The proofs are unsettling; the crying; the complaining; the confessing. Are we a bunch of pussies? Whatever happened to ballsville? Most importantly, where have all the balls gone?

After decades and decades of instilling in our pop-culture subconscious that rock –hard abs and even harder guts gets all the glory, have we, especially the male populace, failed what Rocky and Rambo fought for in those movies?

But then again, you ask who? Exactly.

In a time where Green Lantern’s sidekick gets to kick more ass, Ryan Gosling is some kind of a rockstar, and girls love ‘em Edwards and not Draculas, is there even a room for brainless machismo?

As for Will, he’s hopeless. Unless he moderates on those chick-flick fares, and start on that Entourage season 7 marathon I encouraged him to do, he’ll forever be a wuss, crying about some stupid movie and his love life when he ought to have been having a fun time watching the perfection that is Sasha Grey.

I loved Blue valentine too. But mainly because of the cool end credits.

John should learn how to let loose and Harvey Levin’s philosophy on toilet manners. Sometimes, there’s a room for mistakes here and there. The top is a lonely place to be, especially when you’re alone and alienated everyone else.

I told him once about Sasha’s life, how she waited tables, saved 7 grand, moved to L.A. and became the star that she is now. She gambled and it paid off well. He believes taking chances are for people who don’t have options. He now complains about his life (or lack of it).

Jaime’s a different breed. On what reasons why he chooses to put his delusions on hold, we may never know. But there’s definitely a reason. Probably a skewed one, but a reason nonetheless.

One thing’s for sure though, he will still try to emulate Hayden Kho (yes, him). At least the good parts.

Of this moment, parts these three guys are maybe without are balls*. It’ll be back in no time. But as of this moment, what good are balls when don’t have a brain? You can’t just go shoot and shoot without aiming.

Besides, to end this discourse, it actually takes balls – huge humongous balls, to admit you ain’t got none.

Disclaimer: Only temporary; Pertains to the hypothetical kind. The men mentioned above are young virile animals that would fulfill your appetite just as any men would do you or even better. Only difference is, they’re smarter than most meat you’ll ever get in this lifetime. So grab a book and get smarter. You might snatch yourself one and get a taste cerebral intercourse heaven, baby.

All Them Haters

2011-03-02T15:53:00.009+08:00

To reach for a higher consciousness has always been something I thought I’d get only at or during when that one bottle of Rhum starts kick in and take over the gray matter. C’mon, whether you like to admit it or not, it is only when you’re drunk that you get to avail that luxury to philosophize. Minds meet and collide, all hell breaks lose, and some Dalai Lama takes over your body to connect all that shit to some certain forces we could not fully fathom for we are nothing but just mere human beings in this world.

But then at that drunken moment you think you’re right you couldn’t care less about the world and the heck what’s going on in you’re surroundings because that’s just how it is. You’ve just reached a mental state only a few have achieved so consider yourself lucky. My friend at that very moment you became The Philosopher.

Imagine you and your buddies boozing it, performing meeting of the minds with each shot, and getting numb and high in some intellectual dispatch when suddenly you feel something off. Your synapses are sending messages that something’s just not right. Could it be the Rhum? Or is it just the temperature? Are your pants wet? No. Then what could it possibly be? Ohmmm. Ohmmm. You start to channel John Lennon’s soul from his LSD stoner years. Yes… yes… You get signals… gets a little choppy. Oops, wait, don’t move. It’s getting clearer. And them bam, you realize that that something off, that something’s that’s just not right, that bleep in your radar is no other than that trashbag that had tagged along in that Rhum-sponsored incoherence-inducing cerebral summit. Ladies and gentleman, meet the Hater.

Now isn’t that an introduction.

Chances are you’ve had close encounters kind in one way or another. You probably have dealt with them some time in the past and how you handled the situation leaves so much to be desired. I, even personally believe that the best way to do it is to avoid them like a plague. But then, life’s just like not that. No matter how hard you stay away from and pray for God to get rid of that plague, life has just certain ways to pull a joke on you. Et voila, next thing you know some hater is on your midst.

Once, or thrice I’ve hung out with a certain trashbag who couldn’t really offer anything on the table other than snide comments on things I’m sure she didn’t have at least half the grasp of. She has just got to have opinions on things. Not only that, she had made things worse by talking shit behind my back as if I wouldn’t have noticed. I’m like, “bitch must be craaazzy.” Seriously, who does that? Being the most welcoming person I am in that sacred Rhum watering hole, the guest my friends and I accommodated so well just couldn’t deliver the manners we expected her to have.

They come in all forms and sizes. They could be that now-douchey classmate of yours back in the days who’s now got a really promising (oh puh-lease) future, or that lecturer who considers him/herself so busy and yet has the time to call you out on your tardiness or whatever it is he/she can call you out on for the sake of it, or even that friend of yours you considered a friend. The plague is everywhere. Worst case scenario, it could be that person in your mirror.

Naturally, of course being eternally drunk in the past (I have changed my ways since. Sobriety’s once in a while is cool – my mantra.) I ask how could I not fathom this like how a drunk should understand the connection of the earth’s movement to the stars and whatnot or even just rise above just like what a Dalai Lama ought to do. But then again, intelligent we may think we are when intoxicated I know my IQ’s not 130. I wish it were but then it’s not. I am not a genius. And be like Dalai Lama? LOL. Just LOL.

I maybe wrong on this one but trashbag probably was just crushing on me and was trying to get my attention. Obvious. And that lecturer probably was, too. The rest are nothing but insecure schmucks who, like Kanye, according to Kelly, weren’t hugged enough as kids.

And so I end this with words from a hated person and who recently get bad reps for being just, well, privileged. By that, we mean, a trust fund kid, have loads of cash because of daddy, and now carving a rapping career indirectly because of daddy. Gawker once reported that written on Chet’s social networking page were the words “Keep on hating while I’m celebrating.” Amen to that. Now who wants to hate when we can just celebrate? Stop hate people. And just celebrate yours or other people’ success. Believe me, it does wonders.

That Other L Word

2011-02-12T14:48:00.010+08:00

"By any chance you know how to counter some 'lovespell' some ho put on

me bro?" texted a friend a few days ago.

"Dude, you serious?" I replied back.

"Dead serious man."

And so after a few more exchanges and extra details, the most
intellectual thing I could reply to him was "Uh lemme get back to you
on that."

I must admit, what really what struck me most and caught me by
surprise with his confession is discovering that he actually had
feelings. Dang I didn't see that coming. All this time I thought he
was some kind of detached to all things mushy. See, a little profile
on the victim here; smart, confident, almost cocky and yet shy in
equal measure, and one who values logic and intelligent explanations
over anything that remotely resembles to any emotion. He's human and
all that but he isn't exactly that I'm-in-love kind of guy.

Now if only I were a shaman I would concoct things up from those
leaves and shit but then again I'm not. This writer is just gonna
write about it, make fun of his friend and just see what makes out of
this (which in my case is usually awesome)…

Exhibit A; Houston, We've Got A Problem

But first, let me put on that playlist to listen to while I'm writing this.

Ok.

Done.

Now, where were we? Right. And so I asked my friend again, "how did
this even happen?"

"Don't know man, it just sort of, just happened. I lost it."

I would assume he was referring to his head, but for some reason, I'm
thinking it's his dignity.

Over drinks he would claim he was never dumped per se (although I
would oppose to that). From how he puts it, he does the dumping all
the time. He flirts, girl enjoys. Off he goes to another. Period. It's
a win-win situation as he would call it. He gets his fix, the girl
gets hers too.

But what on earth could have happened that his perfect free love
status quo got shook by someone he calls Ho? And more importantly who
the fuck is this Ho? Is she pretty? Is she hot? Can she even keep up
with the intellects of the victim? And, the real question is, is she
really what my friend fondly claims her to be, a H-O?

Hmmm.

Exhibit B; There's Just Something about Mary

"What happened, really? And why is it such a problem?" I asked.

"Say dude, you've known this girl for some time now, and you know and
she knows there's this undeniable sexual tension between you two and
yet for some reason you've never hooked up, not even once, even when
you've got the chance and God knows how many chances you've passed up.
It just didn't happen because it's just always the wrong time. She's
always involved with someone and your hands are just busy on so many
things. And now she's gone. Gone gone… And every morning you get wood
and all you could think about is doing the nasty with her that would
make any pre-internet porn to shame. Isn't that torture? For all I
know she could have slipped some 'potion' on my drink or something
thus this. I have enslaved myself into having lustful thoughts and
what ungodly things I could do to her body."

Whoa. That's some kind of an honest exposition

"So what's the problem really? Is it because she's 'gone gone' or is
it because the wood you get every morning?"

"No. It's because I can't stop thinking of her."

Oh. My my.

The biggest downside of not having your squeeze beside you in the
morning is having to deal with the fact that there is no receptacle to
help you relieve that overwhelming emotion at a time when you needed
it the most. You wake up and there's no one there. Could it any be
more tragic?

Such tragedies have befallen on notable people before and no one
survives unscathed; Sisa losing her boys, Britney losing her head,
Firecrotch LiLo (intentionally) losing her panties. Before you know
it, you'll be going bonkers, attacking a car with an umbrella and
setting the world afire. Losing something isn't just healthy.

"From what I've heard Tanduay does offer instant remedy."

"You sure with that dude?"

"Hell yeah. I'm master shaman as hell."

Now that that day is fast approaching I beg you Lord rid us of this
plague that has infected the humanity as fast as you can say 'cum'.
Isn't this supposed to be a cue for a national issue we could talk
over lunch breaks like the state of Kris Aquino's vagina or PNOY's latest
foray on pressing concerns like finding him a first lady? Wait. Never
mind.

Good thing I'm only just playing Quit Playing Games (i know, shoot me now) for no other
reasons than 90's nostalgia and nothing else. Honest ~~lie~~ truth.
Really.

Wait. Where's the ~~replay~~ stop button again?

This Ain't About my Abs

2011-01-03T16:04:00.011+08:00

For a year that actually found praise for the new definition of “guido” and actually consider a reality show of dirty Italians as one of the greatest sociocultural experiment of our modern times, does it say a lot of what we’ve come into as humans? ets put t this way, I might even put “the abs” between my name now. I don’t have abdominals but I digress.

I might as well shove it into people’s faces now - something else, not the abs.

It’s one of those moments wherein you just snap and see what you ought to have seen for the longest time. Yes, I think I have been just holding on to certain things a tad too long now, hoping things would change, people would change and that they would be perceptive as what I am to them. Guess I was wrong yet again. Each time I checked, I only got disappointed.

Swimming to the same ocean over and over and eager to see a curb in the wrongful nature on certain fishes, murky waters, and fishes from murky waters, I was so hopeful I crossed my fingers for the nth time only to realize, as that old adage goes, “you can take a guppies from the mud but…” I should’ve just raised the middle finger instead.

Maybe I was just too hopeful… too optimistic… that people would just get over themselves and actually try to be supportive of their friend that had nothing but good intentions, supporting them in all their interests and, well, maybe giving them the occasional knocks on the head… And that people should say or imply whether you didn’t have a chance to begin with and not make us think otherwise. Not everyone can be Sookie when they’re more of a Jason… And maybe the buffoons did try to run the show and I get it. We can’t all be Smarty’s and Brainda’s because that would make us all equals and that’s just wrong… but for buffoons to actually think they’re better than everyone else when they’re not, that’s just godawful (I’m not talking about Survivor Nicaragua) because at the end of the day, we all know who is the loser. And I don't want them to forget that. Just keeping the rightful order of things, suckers.

I have been too patient for so long that I forgot sucking it up and holding it in would be just too boring to any producer. What would the Jersey crew do, right? Blow up. Rage. Fist pump. Or in my case, call it out to the world.
Think guido and try not to be Zuckerberg, i remind myself, no matter how some people claim that the first 10 minutes of the Aaron Sorkin adaptation paralleled to how big of a dick I was. (Cause célèbre blog anyone? But that’s another story.)

But then again maybe I was never guido. Maybe I just liked the thought of being one. Maybe I just liked the entertaining the idea of pulling off things a sane and normal person would have to do a facepalm to in the morning, during a hangover. Or maybe humanity is at an all time low. Whatever it is, if there’s one thing that I’m really sure of, it’s that Zuckerberg and I, big dicks that we are, we don’t have abs.

James The Great.

2010-03-20T16:19:00.004+08:00

I think I’m actually marching to that commencement music this March. Or maybe not- but hopefully, really crossings my fingers here, I do... because I would go out on a limb just to don that black damn toga - even if that means fighting my greatest nemesis of all; myself.

Four years ago, I joined the bandwagon of enrolling nursing as a college degree for all the wrong reasons. Sure, there was the thought of earning dollars involved. But my naïvite was so humongous back then that the sole reason why I chose nursing, aside from looking awesome in white, is to go to the States, change my citizenship, and be on Survivor. Top that.

Geez who knows what would happen to that show after two more seasons? By the time I’m going to be there, if reality and destiny even permits, production would have been already halted and everything I have worked so hard for at Nursing school would have proven to be futile.

Oh my god James, like, you have just shrunk your brains, or what?

And so I ask myself, again, “James, where do you see yourself in the next five years?” Shudder, right? I can hear the crickets chirping. “Well, I think, uhm, uhm”. You get the point. Go James, go. Make up something witty, clever or funny as always because that’s what you’re good at. Not. Somehow, when it comes to serious matters such as the temperature of Rhum being served and my life in possible ruins, I find myself lost in the nothingness of what supposed to be is common sense.

How feasible would it be If I just knock myself over, have amnesia, and forget who I really am? At least I wouldn’t have to worry anymore about my constant procrastination and the lack of action over my intentions. I’m sure I’d make good grades if I weren’t myself. I’m also certain all the clutters in my bedroom or my head would be all gone. And I’m vey positive I would be the assertive person I always wanted to be, graduate this March, and just rock.

No more daydreaming, no more boozing, and no more bitching about how I couldn’t be my own Kurt Cobain in this lifetime. How awesome is that? Uh, just follow the drift. I mean, it would probably transform me into a square and boring person but right now, I am not in a position to complain. I just have to face it. And grow up.

For that I would like to take this opportunity to air out my feelings.

Dear Mom and Dad, I’m really sorry for being such a mess. I promise to study my brains out these finals even if it means morphing myself into some kind of zombie. And James, you know what you ought to do. I don’t even have to tell you what it is. Or I’m just going to have to whack you in the head when you turn wacko every minute or so. So help me God.

Call Me An Ass, A Jerk, Whatever.

2010-01-26T09:49:00.004+08:00

“What am I to you?”

“friends.”

“friends lang?”

“uh… yeah.”

And boy did I know I was in trouble. Or she was. It depends on how you see it. I don’t know. Besides if I was the villain in her story, I was in every right, the hero in mine.

Her friends could have killed me right there and then if they knew I broke their friend’s heart which would just do nothing but affirm the fact that, indeed, I was the victim.

We’ll what’s a poor boy got do? I didn’t want to lead her on. I didn’t have any feelings towards her of any kind. I just, like any douchebag of a guy, copied notes from her, occasionally flirted (but only when necessary). That’s just pretty much it. And some assignments.

I had to do what I got to do.

I entertained her didn’t I?

Call me an ass, a jerk, whatever.

It is undeniable she enjoyed my company.

And I was still doing her a favor by not leading her on.
I can’t fake love you know.

And for that my friend, I deserve a medal of honor.

I mean, in what scenario would she have thought that I was harboring some sort of affection? Exactly.

Again, call me an ass, a jerk, whatever.

I just want to make it public, for future disclaimer purposes, that if I do like you, being the most blunt and person that I am, I would have told you the moment that we met… or when I finally muster any guts, which is like… depends on the urgency. Most of the time, it depends on the need.

And If I had known you for the longest time now, and I still I haven’t told you anything, chances are… you know what your chances are or at least you get the point.

God.

So just get over it. And I’m sorry.

“Laagan kaayo ka dong. Pag-uli sa inyo oi. Pagbuhat inyo IS.”

We actually chanced upon each other one night. And by the tone she used on me, I guess I shouldn’t get my guards down even after two years. I could actually die from crime of passion, you know.

And dude that is just damn epic. ;-)

Nia

2009-11-11T20:41:00.005+08:00

Remember when MYX could actually pass as cool? Well, me neither, since that has never transpired. Never did. Never will.

Another thing that will never happen, not in this universe nor in any alternate universe for that matter is for people to become Nia. I was actually considering Jehna for that one, but that's another story.

But anyhow, I dare ask, Why can't everyone be more like Nia; someone who actually has substance, writes VERY well and passionate at what she does? Heck she can cut her toenails and still be passionate about it. I made that one up- but you get the point. It doesn't hurt either she has this uncanny resemblance to Maricar. Uh uh, no siree. There is no way looking like someone from those infamous videos be a problem. There isn't even any problem at all.

But what has this world had come into? We suddenly have pasang-awas feeling a great deal of self-importance sprouting like mushrooms on pissed dead woods.

And all this poor guy could ever do is shudder in fear at the horrendous sight. Mushrooms are never much of a view, is it?

If you imagine at the thought alone, then try seeing it firsthand.

So why can't people be more like Nia?

You know why.

Sorry

2009-10-16T02:33:00.002+08:00

Normally, I wouldn't do this, but I would also ask apology to everyone, in one way or another, I have directly or indirectly alienated. I don't have to present a list, do I?

But I'm going to own up to what I did, said or perhaps wrote about you people. I'm not going to defend myself. I wronged you and I'm sorry.

To myself, dude, I'm sorry for being the person that I am. It's not going to be all fun ride I tell you. I always have this habit of destroying myself. And I am bound to be hated. I will always be saying things other people wish they could.

And I'd be always, like, "well shit happens". But just because I'm always spiraling down, doesn't mean I like it. Maybe I do, but sometimes, I wish it were different.

Nah.

Okay, maybe I don't at times. Hey it's not like I can do anything about it. Again, sorry, I can. Yeah I CAN. But you do know I'm such a sloth and Satan's spawn right?

God did I just argue with myself?Hahaha.

If I were to be born again into this world, I'd pick to be myself in a heartbeat.

Or not.

But bottomline is, Im sorry. I'm really, really sorry.

I don't say it that often, but when I do, I really mean it.

Mushy Heaven

2009-10-13T19:00:00.004+08:00

One picture. One friggin' picture. That's all it takes… and I'm completely smitten all over again. And I'm sent to mushy heaven again. And again. And again.

And I'm like, fuck, I hate this feeling. This isn't me at all. I'm hardcore; I'm sex. drugs. violence.

I'm not rainbows, chocolates and ~~horses~~ unicorns.

Yet I turn into one at the mere sight of… ugh.

Shit. I hate this.

But just how all that went awry. The last time I checked we were doing well. And I was about to study horses, if not, learning to ride one.

Were you mugged or harassed by some people? By which, I mean monsters I consider as friends. I swear I'd consider them as just monsters now.

So am I smelling sabotage here? Jed, dude, do you know how hard it is to find anyone who has substance? Shit you. And this goes to everyone. Consider yourselves warned.

God I can't believe I'm back to my old ways again.

Like Magic

2009-10-06T00:59:00.006+08:00

Below is my cheerdance write-up for the Crusader Intramurals issue. I just feel the need to post it since it's going to be butchered up anyway by the editorial board... It's my baby and i'm so protective of it, it has to see the light of the day raw, honest and without pretensions. Heck, it's so good it's almost orgasmic.

After amassing over hundreds of crowds eager to see some body maneuvering prowess, it's easy to see why this year’s cheerdance competition is deemed as the most anticipated event of the intramurals season. But then, since when did the cheerdance not become the most awaited? Simply put, it is already ingrained in the mindset of every Atenean that cheerdance is synonymous Intramurals. So healthy, their relationship that it starts to feel one can’t live without the other. Imagine an intramurals without cheerdance. Hmm. You get the point.

The premise is simple. Every year the clock stops, the stars align and the entire Xavier universe gather around the hallowed halls of the gymnasium to see which college has what it takes to be hailed as the best in cheering and dancing. Sounds simple huh? Wrong.

See, it is taken a general rule of thumb here that simple is the most loathed word and the more complex the entire routine is, the better. The team that do good, keep their act together, and wow the audience with best routines win.

Here is the rundown of what really happened last 26th of July

SOE-
The Phoenix clad in blue and white opened the competition… who could ever forget them? Wait. Uhm. Right. They opened the competition. One thing the Educs should realize is that they’re almost there but they are not just getting there yet. Sure it’s one thing to give a good performance; it’s another to be pitted with the giants. It’s just a matter of bad luck that even if they gave a good and clean performance the others did as well. Seryahakune on Youtube could only say “go educ… xD”

Agriculture-
The biggest surprise of the evening came in green and looking almost like a bunch of Peter Pans. The grabbed the third spot. “nice, biggest surprise gyud ang aggies, deserved the spot..” opines 098march.. Although not as clean (the performance) as every bullrider would hope for, they had their moment when they did that synchronized tumbling. And that chubby kid in the center, don’t forget! It has been six years since the Aggies made waves, and this year, they rightfully have gotten what they deserved.

CIT-
If cheerdance has taught us something about the Knights it has to be their sheer athleticism. One cannot deny the fact that their cheerleaders had it going for them in terms of potential. 19jessa89 writes “sUper tumblinG!!!!bow!!! ”. A little tweaking here, a little guidance there and a power costume to boot, it’ll be no time when CIT could drop the ball against the giants. There is still hope for CIT. And great potential, if we may add.

Artscies –
There were many reasons to get excited about the Tiger’s performance. For one, they have always been dependable in delivering great goods… but if we had to pick one, it would have to be the cheerleaders. They were so great at what they do, dancing, doing stunts and all and yet the girls still manage to look cute with oozing hint of sexy after every move. It felt like Sailormoon. Even though, they didn’t land a spot in the top three, that doesn’t make them any less good as cheerleaders. And sexy.

Engineering –
Further proof that the Engineering almost gave the SBM a run for their money: geo on Youtube writes “SBM ko pro mas ganahan ko sa performance sa Engineering!.. ”. They won 2nd. Were they good? Yes. But were they good enough to get the top spot once again like they did last year? The judges obviously said no. Or they could have topped themselves last year, but the SBM topped them more. If it’s any consolation, they were really snappy. And besides, 2nd place is not too shabby either.

Nursing
Come to think of it, the Pythons actually had a chance of winning… if it was America’s Best Dance Crew. “i agree hiphop ra kau sa last part, dli na xa cheerdance. daog unta mo sa hiphop competition... sayang nursing.” adds graXa23. Costume-wise, the pythons looked the part, if not, the best amongst everyone. After the performance, people actually started rooting for them. They were the cutest hiphop oddball that sashayed the court. They even brought the house down. They just lacked stunts. Another one or two tricks would have made a difference.

SBM
In a highly foreseen move, the SBM, donning that perennial yellow, delivered once again enough chutzpah and goods to secure this year’s crown. As everyone can recall, they came in second last year. This time, they have succeeded. “Wala gyud nag-expect. Basta sa amo lang limpyo, walay sayop… bonus na ni ni God sa amo” adds their cheercaptain, with tears were flowing from here eyes. Jenangel913 on youtube sums up the performance as, “limpyo kaau ang ambak, dungan jud. Payts! ;)” Enough said.

There are many things we don’t understand about cheerdance (like, for instance how our bets always don’t get the top spot). However, there is one thing we absolutely, totally understand without question.

When 7 teams perform and represent each college after gruesome weeks of preparation and the entire population stop, watch in awe and admiration, and get together like a solid community (never mind those inflated you-know-what thrown around the gym)… that is when something truly magical happens.

Like Magic. Viva el Cheerdance! Until next year. ;-)

photo credit: Pamela Lico
.

The Midterm Effect

2009-09-10T02:32:00.004+08:00

Fcuk. I knew this was coming… but I kinda hoped it hadn’t because it sucks. Bigtime.

I don’t even have to reveal my QPI for people to know how my existence is hanging by a thread lately. Hint: I need to pull a miracle in order to survive the ordeals of nursing education. Tricks won't do this time.

I’ve got this question about my class standing and certainly I already had the answer. Particularly if the question is, “am I in BIG trouble?”.

I don’t have to answer that, do I?

too late

2009-08-24T18:31:00.002+08:00

In the true i-wished-i-acted-on-it-earlier tradition, I realize that sometimes, by the time I get serious, it’s already too late.

In a word, midterms.

In another related word, college.

Heck I even get the weirdest feeling the next word would be life.

Square Off

2009-07-25T23:13:00.008+08:00

Like what I posted on facebook, when Jedyl started talking, i immediatedly rooted for ADDU. haha. Wierd.

Let it be known to the world that, of course, i'm biased to my tita Liz mainly because she's my tita and she's downright cool and she doesn't try too hard to become or sound like an intellectual because she is and always will be the epitome of geekazoid with a hint of street cred. Same goes for her nephew. Duhr.

Let it also be known I abhor that with the exception of myself, I get irritated by stupid people who actually had the means to push their IQs above sea level and opted no to. Shame on you, you guys.

Shame on you.

Same goes to all the fakers out there who obviously try too hard to sound good when they won't, not ever, and not in this lifetime. Read just because you have that American twang or god-knows-what accent you're using doesn't make you brilliant. The more you try too hard to impress, the harder you fall flat on your face.

See it could be defense mechanism you're using but the the fucking truth is, it ain't working.

Simply put, you could fool fifth graders but not this boy. And my tita.

Raindrops keep falling on my head

2009-06-15T19:20:00.005+08:00

You have got to be kidding me. It’s not raining hard right now. Because I’m pretty sure the sun shone on that window a minute ago. I mean, why would it rain in the middle of the day? This isn’t a creepy pacific island! And I haven’t gotten any memo that CDO is the new Lost. Or have I? Nah, I went to “Sobriety” and I haven’t had a drink for ages now.

What has happened to the weather people? Don't tell me Polar bears tops the most likely to show up soon list

We will be welcoming the start of the new school year and what better way to celebrate the opening with a couple drinks with some friends. It’ll be crappy shit if it’s going rain then.

So why can’t we be like Norway?... The land of the midnight sun. I don’t think it rains there when sun does overtime 24/7 in the cold Scandinavian skies. I'm wrong here but let's just all think I'm not.

What I’m saying is I hope it won’t rain later. So rain please don’t. Thou shall not dare rain on my parade.

Or could you at least send me an early notice.

I immaculately conceived Gonorrhea.

2009-04-27T21:05:00.003+08:00

But before I get any further, I would like to say I did not immaculately conceive anything. Let’s leave me out of this, because I’m so clean it’s almost squeaky.hehe

Kidding aside, someone did.

It would have been neat if both parties got involved of the infamous 5-way hook up that had transpired a long time ago… Maybe not I it’s not your thing, but still - that would’ve given them valid reason why the faucets been leaking down under.

Saying “Hon, I think I got an infection from that sex party we joined at.” than “Bitch, I mean, Hon I tested positive, and I think I got it from you.” would have been way way easier.

I mean whatever happened to those balloons that come in different flavors? If you can’t be good then be at least safe. Dude, put some raincoats on. And girls, who says you can’t buy those. *Cough DOTTED cough. It’s even sexy, in a bondage kind of way.hehe

Believe me; being safe goes a long long way. And unless you’re Mary, you can never immaculately conceive anything. You probably got it from that one night stand you wish you never had.

The drinking problem

2009-04-24T19:24:00.008+08:00

About my drinking problem. There’s no such thing. And neither does Rianne. We didn’t fail, right? So there’s nothing to talk about. I made it. She made it too-miraculously. And so did Rob. So there’s nothing.

I know I have been too lax earlier the second semester… got drunk when I passed, got drunk when I failed, got drunk all the time, got drunk for no reason whatsoever. I just did it for Rhum. And boy did he get it done. I enjoyed, got wasted, puked at times, and sported way lot of hangovers. Bottom line is, I enjoyed.

But if I drank hard, I studied harder. I did what a student ought to do; have my brain whacked against stockpile of books. I may have missed some sessions but it was worth it. I couldn’t be more proud of myself.

So about the drinking problem, it’s nonexistent. If it did, I wouldn’t be here at all. It's not like I already texted people that we're having some hard drinking session later. I haven't. Well maybe later.

F.Ü.C.K. You

2009-04-19T20:48:00.004+08:00

For Ünlawful Carnal Knowledge, I strongly believe Lily Allen’s Fuck You should be taught to preschool kids.

At least when they grow up they won’t be as fucked up as some people.

They won’t be camwhoring that much. They could and maybe they would… but it won’t be more than the proverbial understandable and allowable 75 frames. 75 frames is already too much, but seeing the same face on the same pose over and over and over with a different background in all gazillion albums is just way too much. You went to this place and that place. Big deal. I went there too… in my dreams.

They won’t be self-absorbed, self-obsessed, self-serving individuals who talk about themselves all day long and think the whole world revolves around them. They won’t be all “me me me me me me”. They won’t go to the bathroom and blog about it. I go there too and usually I take a leak or dump some shit there- not update it on my status.

Am I just being too hard on these breed or should I just turn my email notifications off, but until then, “fuck you fuck you very very much. We hate what you do and we hate your whole crew so please don’t keep in touch”… preschoolers sing with me now.

Fuck You. Ü

Gimme gimme gimme

2009-02-26T20:58:00.003+08:00

Let me start by saying Leanne hasn’t fully grasped the concept of Borrowing.
She knows how to borrow and not how to return. She has a penchant for excuses and changing of topics but not in giving back the things to its rightful owner.

Leanne if you’re reading this, get mad, blow up or whatever, I don’t fucking care. Just return those flat circular stuffs known to the rest of the world as DVDs slash the entire four seasons of the OCs. I know you’re a sucker for the show but so am I. It’s already enough that I introduced you to Josh Scwhartz baby and your own twin Juju. The least you could do is return it. I mean, how hard can it be? You go home, you look for it and you give it to me. It’s that fucking simple. Three easy frigging steps.

It just doesn’t make sense at all because when I borrow, I return it after. I hope you do too. So if anything isn’t clear, you want some explanation of some kind, you can… read this text all over again. Blinding flash of the obvious here: I want my stuff back.

Love lots. ;-D

Fingerbang

2009-01-31T22:12:00.005+08:00

Somehow, I found the thought of Paris getting fingerbanged in a cab hot.

I also believe that the Dawson’s creek pilot was, quoting Katie’s Joey here, orgasmic. And the entire first season was a series of multiples. It kept on coming and coming if that was sex, my penis would have had a hard time recovering. It was just fucking clever. The Pacey-on-the-verge-of-manhood-and-hooking-up-with-his-teacher story arc was the bomb.

So uh yeah, I watched that teen soap when I was 11. Relived it when I was 19.

Just feeling nostalgic.

Also I hooked up with a teacher. In my dreams. Haha.

But if there’s one thing I don’t want to happen ever again is failing MS. For the 2nd frigging time.

But uh yeah, I failed the midterms. And I don’t have anyone to blame but myself. Believe me; the feeling is nowhere near orgasmic.

Fingerbanging Paris in a cab may seem hot, but fingerbanging my future sucks. Besides, my future’s not Paris. Or her look-a-like. Or even a teacher.

Loser Dogs.

2008-12-23T12:09:00.004+08:00

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Survivor Gabon is that, aside from the fact that Corrine, Marcus, Charlie and Randy are vile and bitter ugly jury, Corrine is still ugly no matter what. She can put on the thickest makeup and she will still look like hell. And I’m not being superficial.

I won’t even talk about her being-24-and-looking-like-39.

What I would like to point out is that her speech to my Sugar was the most inappropriate thing that could have come out from that mutant of a person. She’s not Ivy League-bred for Chrissakes. Nor does she have natural boobs. And she considers herself educated, please!

This led me to formulate a theory.

Corrine, just like some people I know- people who try to put other people down to make themselves feel better are actually just insecure. And just like Corrine who came in 7th, meaning not 1st (obviously)… then what does that make them? What’s that word again? Uh loser, right? Losers.

thank u (go figure)

2008-12-12T18:09:00.007+08:00

Allow me to be gibberish because that’s how things are lately; an incomprehensible syntax error.

I mean, I just don’t get it. Why all these lying, backdooring and sabotaging? Am I that stupid? Do I really look like a moron? I failed MedSurg last year but that doesn’t make me Dumb and Dumber. Heck, they don’t need a Dumberer for God’s sake.

Let me just start by saying I see a rat when I smell one. So that lie, that lame excuse and all, was unnecessary. I would have preferred to have taken the truth straight because aside from the fact that it really didn’t matter, I just don’t like that kind of stuff. That’s just plain pussy. Besides, I didn’t give a flying fuck a about it.

And the sabotage or at least the attempt? I would have raised a finger but that would make the culprit happy. So to all dem haters out there; Thank You! I didn’t know I made such an impact.

This is not a joke. If you find yourself laughing and thinking it couldn’t be you I’m talking about, well THINK AGAIN. I take pride for being such a faker. So allow me to be gibberish because until now, I couldn’t understand why some people had to do it- just like having Ron Howard on Angels and Demons when the The Vinci Code sucked. But that’s another story.

Again, thank you.

Dear Mr. Crusader.

2008-11-13T19:48:00.007+08:00

Dear Mr

Dear Mr. Crusader

I blog.

That counts as writing, right? So anyway, yeah, blinding flash of the obvious here, I am applying for any vacancies in the school paper. Truth is, I was eyeing the position of a maintenance guy but since you weren’t looking for any, a feature writer would do just fine.

I’m a 3^rd year nursing student who thinks he can write. Yes, I think I can. Don’t burst my bubble. If you think I can’t and you can’t suck that in, you can tell that to my… uh, fans; people who read my writings. There are 2 of them. They’re into pulverizing things, I forgot to tell you.

Did I mention I blog? Right. Well, that’s the only experience I had for the past 4 years. I was an associate editor at our school paper back in high school but I didn’t really know what being an associate editor meant. I just wrote stuffs that our small school cared to publish.

If you’re looking for a reference, I have none. But Tals Diaz and I are friends. On facebook. She’s one of the best writers broadsheet could ever have. Few days ago, she wrote something on my wall, not that mattered, but, yeah, we communicate. Here’s an excerpt of one of her messages: “Hey, actually I think you write pretty well! Do you want to rant about your experience the best way possible- by writing an article fo 2BU? They're looking for new writers to add to their pool. If it's more "Super" than 2BU, I'll try to stick it in Super. I think it's a cool story, and it may just be your first break in the fulfilling yet not quite financially rewarding path of writing. That's how everyone starts anyway, contributing for 2bu!”

I can never be Jehna Paigan, a Gino de la Paz, or a Tals Diaz, but I can be me. I have my own style. I have my own attack when it comes to writing. I’m fun, a little pricky, but fun nonetheless. I think. I am very vulgar as much as I am conservative. Nobody believes that. And I am very opinionated. That, I’d like to believe.

I’m sure I’m going to be a great addition to your bevy of writers. There isn’t just enough representation of stupid people in the publication that it actually starts to feel a little unfair. I mean, where have all the stupid people gone? We’re, like, gazillions. I tell you, it would be great for your image that you hire me. Can you imagine the market you’re going to reach when you get me as one of your wordsmiths? I repeat, we’re gazillions.

So anyway, if you liked the sales pitch, text me. You have my digits. And if it’s going to be a NO, don’t even bother.

I just love to write. Period.

Cheerios,

James

batch 01 should all hate Pebbo

2008-10-30T22:56:00.005+08:00

Truth is, I really thought he was going to lead a boring life, maybe do broadsheet or become a surgeon. Boy was I wrong. He’s now opening a store at Robinsons, making waves in Iloilo, and interacting with bigwigs and famous people from the “industry”…And I thought I was already cool just because Tals and I are communicating! sometimes. If there’s one thing I hate about being friends with Paulo, aside from him-making-it-until-the-final-casting-when-I-was-the-die-hard-fan, it’s the feeling that I’m a some kinda loser slacker dude who’s been left behind.

Everyone from SPED actually have great futures ahead of them. I think. And I don’t! Ken S., if you’re reading this, dude, your prediction didn’t come true. Thanks a lot dude. Thanks a lot. I mean, Paulo has got all these options. That was his problem. In my case, the lack thereof is. Where in world is justice? Well Paulo did offer me to become a human hanger of some sort. I’m not sure if he was serious… bet he only said it because we’ve been friends since kindergarten and I’m going through shit. Great, I’m officially now a charity case. And if Maricel and Marsha did commend my sinister, evil look that, according to them, would look good on the "runway". They said it partly because I do look evil (and I like that) and mostly because I’m their friend. That’s all there is to it… That is, if Paulo didn’t make the whole story up. My issue. I’m sure Paulo wouldn’t lie about it, but still, I won’t completely buy it until Maricel and Marsha say it to my face. And besides, that was patronizing.

…And too convenient don't ya think? Hmmm.

He didn’t tell me that he told Neil Gumban he was expecting me to be one of the qualifiers until recently. He implied that I was still emotionally fragile to know about it. Which reminds me, Pau, If you’re reading this, we have to still have to talk about you-dropping-my-name-at-the-auditions. And for the record, I’m no longer bitter. I’m just want to kill Neil Gumban. I’m building an army against him. Anyone? Feel free to join. I’m no longer bitter. Heck, I’m not even whining that I can’t have Leighton Meester for a girlfriend. I’m more of an Emanuelle Chriqui guy. It’s actually Paulo who’s been whining about that. I just hate Neil Gumban that’s all. And Pau, right on, dude. Right on.

End of contract is to end of Tecson

2008-10-20T16:02:00.009+08:00

I’m finally done with work. Finally. Finally! Hated it anyway- well, as much as I liked it. And it wasn’t the most fulfilling job in the world. I’m sorry, I know that other people would find it fulfilling and I’m sure there lives a certain kind of strata that would like it. But not me.

Now that it's, I’ve never been happier since… I can’t remember. Basta. I’ve never been happier. I no longer have to deal with the stock clerk’s constant mood swings. And that’s like every minute or two. God I know she’s bitter about life and all but she doesn’t have to take that out on us. Totally dragging.

Or with the fag manager. Just to set things clear; this is not gay bashing. This is just a bash on people who happen to be gays. My manager is the reason why I haven’t been able to spend more time with my grandfather. My grandfather is now dead. Phuket! And I’m still hurting over the fact that he’s gone. Well karma’s a big bad bitch. I’m sure my manager would have to deal with that bitch sooner or later. And if this makes me feel better, I just want to broadcast to the world that my manager is still in the closet and his boyfriend’s name is Jeff. Oops, sorry. That just came out. Everyone knows about it anyway. Damn obvious. And the fag boss from manila. I just didn’t like him. Not even worth my time.

The area sales manager from Cebu, thank god I no longer have to see his philandering face. He had sex with Mae who’s known for having been all over town, has an STD (*citation needed) and who recently had an abortion days before his official visit. As if the whole Giordano staff didn’t know about the sex thing. God bless their immoral souls.

So those were the people I had to deal with. It just makes me miss Ma’am Tecson more. Or maybe not.

It didn't suck.

2008-09-28T22:32:00.006+08:00

See? It didn’t suck. Survivor, the CBS version, would never suck. Never. They have all the budget in the world. And they don’t have a Neil Gumban to ruin the show.

So the other night, I had 80 minutes of non-stop TVgasm. God the premier was hellraisingly good. I wouldn’t be blogging about it if it wasn’t. It was just so damn funny. Where’d they get the castaways anyway? The Olympian couldn’t even climb up the hill. The doctor had a dick slip. On High Definition. And a gay lawyer just fell head over heels for him… which is as of this moment, I bet is probably rewinding the wardrobe malfunction scene over and over again.

Gabon has got to be the funniest season ever.

indecent proposal

2008-09-24T14:39:00.006+08:00

I got a sex job offer days ago and I didn’t just like it. I hearted it. Seriously, am I really that fine that some old closeted rich fag wanted a taste of my goodies? But how come I’m not on Sur- nevermind. God. I’m that appealing. Wait, again, I’m that appealing. This is such a nice mantra. I could keep on repeating this over and over again.

But seriously, inasmuch as it was a self-esteem booster, it was also gross. I mean, yuck. I am not a gigolo. I am not a man-whore. I don’t sell myself. I am not for sale.

But if there’s one thing that I really liked from the whole experience, it’s the thought of having power over people. If that isn’t great enough, then I don’t know what is. And the best part is when I get to turn them down and leave them feeling like kids who couldn’t have any candies from the candy store. Climax.

So to say that I liked the fact that someone’s willing to pay me for sex…that would be an understatement. I thought it was great, mindblowing and transcendant. God I’m so appealing. LMFAO ;-P

Not that bad.

2008-09-17T16:42:00.006+08:00

I've, in a weird little way, uncomfortably befriended the enemy. Worse is, I’ve come to grow a little respect for that guy. Krigi’s not that bad- just a simple case of acting out. Anyhow, he handled his elimination better than I did and that spells respect from me. Heck, it’s been months now and I’m still not over it. Something must be really wrong with me. Besides, we now have a common enemy; and that’s the fat dude from Survivor, Neil Gumban. We are gonna fucking kill him.

Talking about Survivor, I actually chanced upon the premier. Ok, I didn’t just chanced upon it. I did watch it on purpose… all because I thought I wanted to do some bashing after. It turned out I’ve realized after that even if the show may suffer in comparison with the US version given the fact that it’s THE US version compared to a GMA production, it’s not that bad. Think budget. My friend Paulo even thought the show had poor editing and poor cinematography. Uh well, yeah, maybe. All I really cared for was the all important buffs! Where are those freaking buffs?

But the shows got some charm going on-in the person of Patani. She alone could save the show. What the show lacks in personality (only 4 castaways has it), it makes up with the inclusion of the interesting yaya from Cebu.

Other than the slow pacing, and the cutting of challenges making it, in Paulo’s words, “uneventful and anticlimactic”, I couldn’t think of any reason why the show sucks. Wait, I’m not in it. It does suck.

But biases aside, the show is decent enough for people to watch… Just not that good enough for the fans but, really, not that bad. I’m serious.

TVgasms

2008-09-10T16:41:00.011+08:00

I actually thought 90210 was good- fucking good to the point that i was already scaring myself. Good god. I can’t believe I watch those kind of shows! But… uh yeah. I watched. And I think it rocked. It’s the best new show this season. I think it’s the only new show this season. Not that the “new” factor really mattered, ok it did, but that doesn’t change the fact that the show was actually freakingly good and that it’s a spinoff of Beverly Hills and that the outrageously hot-for-her-age Jennie Garth is reprising her role, and that Shannen Doherty is also back on doing fictitious character and not reality tv… Note in mind: watch it.

But when it comes to Survivor Gabon, I don’t even have to watch it to know that it’s definitely going to be awesome. It’s my fucking favorite show. Of course it’s going to be great- no matter what the outcome is. And they’re now on HiDef meaning, with the exception of the castaways, everything would be stunning to look at. But other than the people on the show looking worse than ever or Jeff Probst's aging, all fans are going to have TVgasms of sorts. Good god. Mark Burnett is a sheer genius. I can’t wait for the 25^th!

Just don’t watch Survivor Philippines. Trust me it’s going to be dragging. And with GMAs track record, the local version is going to suck. Think Pinoy Flop, er, I mean Idol. I could be just sourgraping. But it's definitely going to suck.

Gratzie's mom has got it going on.

2008-08-06T23:02:00.007+08:00

Mrs. Tanya Michelle Aldrich Golez came by, said hi, smiled, and well, flirted with me... Ok, I made the last one up. But that was more than enough for this boy’s spirits to lift up. A penshoppe poster girl actually said hi to me. I could have died right there and then. But I did not. Chose not to… because I opted to be reduced into a blabbing idiot at her mere presence. I promise not to forget her waist line. Ever.

It felt like going into a toy store for the first time. There wasn’t any channeling of inner perv self that happened. No My Friend’s Hot Mom fantasies. (Besides, her adorable kid, Gratzie, and I aren’t friends. Yet.)… Just pure wholesome fun. She was just so… pretty. And nice. And down to earth- downright dreamy. Just what I needed- something to make me forget about certain things which is synonymous to my arch nemesis’s Survivor stint. She is now officially my hot guardian angel, my statuesque cherub, my Irish heroine. And I’m her earthling on distress.

Oh Mrs. Golez, save me.

survivor reject.

2008-07-13T00:03:00.004+08:00

Yes, I auditioned for the show. And yes, I didn’t get through. And you bet, I’m hoping the Philippine franchise would be one hell of a megaflop. I am officially a sourgraping Survivor reject. It’s all because Philippine TV is all about white, halfbreeds and sobstories. Not even my nose helped. Here’s a trip down emotional memory lane on my recent misadventure.

Ecstatic- Words that best described the feeling were: “Shut up! No way! Get outta here!”. I knew I was the only one who felt that way when I first saw the Survivor teaser on TV. To begin with, I’m a Survivor fan since day 1. And the reason why I took up nursing was because I wanted to go to the States, be an American citizen just so I could join join Survivor. I believe I failed MedSurg because of this. It was God’s way of saying that I should be on that show. Actually, I believed that. The whole audition thing was for formalities sake and that I would end up as one of the castaways anyway.

Merriment- Still convinced that I was going to get through, I assessed the competition. Affirmative. The urban myth was right. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Davao doesn’t really spell the word “pretty” in its population. Just tune in to Big Brother. That’s a given fact. Secretly I was jumping for joy already.

Complete shock and utter disbelief- When the last digit didn’t turn out to be mine, I gave out the best OH My God to be recorded on camera. That was classic TV right there at its finest. I’m hoping they’ll use that as some audition clips. It’ll just attest the fact that I’m perfect for reality TV. They chose sobstory Sal over me? There must’ve been some kind of mix up. He wasn’t even half as good-looking. He didn’t even have personality. He just had a freaking sobstory. I came up to him, shook his hand and said “God I hate you”. On the sidelines, the German mutt was more than beaming with my elimination. I wanted to kill that Nazi right there and then.

My batchmates then told me they expected me to get though. Even I, expected it too. Whatever happened to them perceiving me as a threat? Whatever happened to my “I’m very manipulative, I’m such a good liar, I’m here to use other people” sales pitch that the panel loved so much? The panel even wrote comments on my application form- comments I thought to be golden tickets for final casting shoo in. Whatever happened to the good-looking people pattern? I wasn’t really relying on that aspect but I thought it would help.

I returned on the 2nd day. It was then the producer said “alam niyo kasi, ang hinahanap naming dito, eh yung feel naming na magugustuhan ng mga tao”. Was he implying I wasn’t likable? Having heard that, I kind of expected to be eliminated on the final round yet again. So yes, I got eliminated. He chose a midget mestizo who did nothing but smile and said that he would survive on the Island because he goes to the gym. Note to self: go to the gym. If I want to survive in an Island, I must go to the gym. I should have said I took cherifer as a kid.

And so, I’m hoping Survivor Philippines wouldn’t live up to its hype and that it would look cheap compared to the US version. I wish it’ll be the biggest flop this season. And it’s all because they didn’t pick me."

The Tals effect (meanest middle finger to that fat dude from Survivor)

2008-06-26T23:41:00.018+08:00

Tals Diaz:

Hey, actually I think you write pretty well! Do you want to rant about your Survivor experience the best way possible- by writing an article fo 2BU? They're looking for new writers to add to their pool. If it's more "Super" than 2BU, I'll try to stick it in Super. I think it's a cool story, and it may just be your first break in the fulfilling yet not quite financially rewarding path of writing. That's how everyone starts anyway, contributing for 2bu!

I found a soft copy of my Pakistan article online. It's here: http://showbizandstyle.inquirer.net/you/super/view/20080523-138402/This-side-of-PakistanAlso, and this got me in stitches - while searching for a soft copy I found something totally hilarious! It's an article published in the Tehran Times, aka "Iran's Leading Daily" and it's about my article on Pakistan. They practically cut and pasted my whole article and made me a "he"! LOL!!!!!!!http://www.tehrantimes.com/index_View.asp?code=169541

Let me know if you wanna get a shot at writing that Survivor piece. I'm serious - better also if you have pictures. And write how you sound - you'll know you've got it right when you read it and it goes with that voice in your head. Haha did that make sense? ;)

Cheers,Tals

hey i will propose your survivor story in the next planning session and send your work in okay? have a good weekend james =)

Not that I’m bragging that Tals and I are communicating and that she took notice of my writing, it’s just that after my shocker elimination, I want to reaffirm my self worth. And what better way to reaffirm the already standing hard and tall self-worth of mine is to post Tals Diaz’s message- to me. Yes we’re friends. On friendster. And on facebook… and facebook is, like, totally exclusive. Meaning we really are friends. One time, back in 04, she told me about being happy after Colby Donaldson’s ouster in Survivor All Stars. That’s, like, an honest blog from one Survivor fan to another. So anyway, I’m just saying that I’m actually giving Neil Gumban, Survivor’s project manager, the meanest middle finger right now.

Hey there fat dude, never would I kiss your fat ass just to be on that fucking show that’s going to suffer in comparison with the US version anyway. They’re going HD, and you’re just shooting in Thailand? Poor. Ramona Diaz’s niece really knows how to appreciate real talent when she finds one. Sobstories are so passe. That Sobstory guy you chose over me, I wish him more tragedies in life. That Al guy changing people's perception among muslims... uh so showbiz. and Dauel was just short. Dude you chose a pretty boy midget over a handsome guy 5'9''. Seriously? Nevermind Krigi. He's the antichrist.

What I'm saying is, I should have been on the show dude! Should've been. Call me and I'd be more than willing to kiss ass. I'll even be your bestfriend. So just call. You have already have my digits.

Sourgraping

2008-06-11T13:28:00.007+08:00

I had my contract signing with Giordano Philippines yesterday. Did I make it sound right? Anyway, I was laughing at the thought. Contract signing. God. It actually happens in real life. Not just on TV. At the back of my head I was imagining as if it were some from GMA. And that there were people from the press and a whole lot of photo ops. Yes, I’m still hoping even if that’s next to impossible. And I’m still the show would be a again, “one hell of a megaflop” because I’m not going to be in it. I’m wishing the whole cast and crew would die. Kidding. But half meant. Shit. I’m such a loser for writing this. But I don’t fucking care. I’ve always been such a loser. But like, that’s something new.

Amanda's loss made me smile

2008-05-19T16:35:00.006+08:00

I’d say Survivor Micronesia would be written in books as one of the best seasons ever. So what if the favorites line-up was less than stellar than the All-Stars and that Yau man got the boot early in the game? So what? It is still by far the best in terms of blindsides, evacuations and dumbest moves in Survivor’s history. And in the finale, thank God Amanda didn’t win. It would have been anticlimactic if she did.

I was actually hoping that self-confessed cutthroat, ruthless, stonecold bitch/monkey girl in the Survivor fandom Natalie would take home the million dollars. The only fan left came in just 4^th. Not bad. That’s still 13 weeks of airtime. In reality it felt was less than that. Her confessionals only started airing when she blindsided Jason. Anyhow, at least Parvati won. It pays to be a flirt. Not bad really. I was enjoying hearing the boos when Jeff announced her name. Now that’s what you call an ending. After 8 years, Survivor has still kept me glued on my TV. Cheers for more entertaining seasons to come.

leanne

2008-05-19T16:29:00.007+08:00

As the list of changes went on- such as giving sermons on why I should be “tact” to the point of forgetting that she wasn’t the most tact person as well and talking loud and proud about being esteemed as some smartass in her block- I was convinced that Leanne had been taken over by some powerful being… for good.

Ever since freshmen year, I always thought of Leanne as some party girl slut who liked to party, party, party. So I was under the impression that, in no time, she would fall hard, hard, hard. But boy was I wrong. She survived. She stayed. She’s turning senior.

When I saw her get inside the chapel once, it was so weird and surreal that it felt like some antichrist sought redemption. That was 2 years ago. While there may be lapses, given that Leanne will always be talking about people behind their backs and that she might find this trait hard to outgrow (this what makes Leanne her own person and less of it sometimes), the change in her personality is truly remarkable. She even stared at me as if I was the devil when I blurted out an honest opinion. Santisima. I actually thought I was the devil until I realized Leanne was just being her new self-righteous self. Forgiven. So kudos to her. I am supporting her all the way.

P.S. And I don’t really give a fuck if she gets mad at me for writing this. She already knew what I thought of her before. Moreover, she tried to destroy me to Jade when I wrote the piece “Candy”. Her plan backfired since I can always get away with certain things. Did she really think Jade would be freaking mad? Nobody takes me seriously. Or so they think. ;-)

Last of my kind

2008-04-26T14:03:00.002+08:00

I was rooting for Jason the entire night because

he’s the underdog (we all love the underdog, don’t we?),
showed Ozzy who’s boss by beating him at the immunity challenge
tried to help Eliza
and connived with her to oust Ozzy … which eventually backfired… but lead to Eliza’a outing Ozzy as having the hidden Immunity idol
the girls are dominating and picking the male specie one by one

There were countless times last night wherein I just want to hit him in the head and wake him up, the whole childlike wide-eyed kid charisma was, even though frustrating, spelled capital RESPECT. God, I didn’t expect that there are still good-natured people living in this world. I thought was the last one.

Jade wants candy

2008-04-26T13:53:00.003+08:00

The truth is Jade totally wants me. Uh not subtle. Why did she (and Leanne) have complain a lot about how I became such a chick magnet of some sort… and even how my supposedly two minutes with Avril turned to ten? I mean, those stuffs didn’t even have to concern her. Read: Possessive Psycho.

This got me worried in a platonic way (of course). The possibility of turning this little crush of hers into an obsession is so great; this could lead to the untimely demise of her normal brain functioning. If only she could muster the guts to tell it my straight to my face, she would never have to blurt out hints bitterness towards me. It just gets more and more obvious all the time. I’m also starting to suspect that she was the one bugging me on my other phone.

I am just concerned. Really concerned. Really.

To James and Eliza

2008-04-26T13:44:00.004+08:00

The Ozzy blindside episode of Survivor is now by far the best this season and it’s all because the narcissistic, arrogant, self-absorbed and so-full-of-himself Ozzy Lusth got the boot. Booyah… which lead to James thinking he’s no longer the dumbest ever in Survivor history.

UH Yes James, you’re still the dumbest Survivor ever. Don’t you ever forget that. How on earth did you get the idea? Thou shall not compare your experience with Ozzy because yours was a case of stupidity, not conceit.

And Eliza, didn’t it ever occur to you that, now, less is more. Cue in Bardem. You knew that was going to happen. Your reaction looked exaggerated... but I still like you though. Forgiven.

VanessaXXX

2008-04-10T10:56:00.005+08:00

You might think that the two species that passed this year’s Medical-Surgical Nursing were the boring nerds and those that, well, cheated their way through the whole semester, but it’s not that quite simple: in profiling this semester’s survivors, I realized that, aside from the people who can both fit in as nerds and cheaters, there were also people who, may never in a million years, would look like someone who could pass kindergarten but managed to pull through. Living proof is VanessaXXX (note: not her real name).

Sure, this girl looked like someone who came out straight from porn that could barely spell, say, any hard word, but in the end, when the likes of Judith Lavictoria and Peter Naval flunked, she proved ~~everyone~~ me wrong. She’s not that as dumb as she looked after all. She passed… surprising guys like me who thought she had a very promising future in porn

The moral: never judge a girl by her looks curves alone. Sometimes, the brain comes in sexy packages.

Pout, pout baby

2008-04-06T15:09:00.004+08:00

It wasn’t until yesterday that I watched American Idol’s results show. I missed it the other day. On purpose… which is weird since I usually end up watching it anyway, blaming the lack of quality television, by which I mean that David Tutera guy being himself. So creepy. I mean, why can’t Travel and Living have Globe Trekker or Lonely Planet running when I want them to.

So our very own Ramy finally got the boot. It was sooner than what I have hoped for. But her elimination was a no-brainer. Not that she gave a bad performance but it wasn’t stellar either. The judges going easy on Ramy, caring less about a mediocre performance was a sign. It was their subtle way of saying, you’ve got to go. So much for being the first Asian-American Idol, huh?

Best assessment ever

2008-03-15T15:15:00.006+08:00

It’s that time again… time to reflect on all my accomplishments of the last semester. Unfortunately, what accomplishments I can lay claim to generally involve… wait, I don’t have any accomplishments this past 5 months. Or am I just being too hard on myself? Well this isn’t the first time.

It’s official. I failed Medical Surgical Nursing. Umm, yeah, that happened. Now, moving on…

OK, fine… since I’m getting weird stares and all, I just want to say that, even if I’m all smiles (according to leanne) and had inappropriate affect (according to ma’am Dablo), I am affected just like everyone else who failed (well, maybe with the exception of Jai2x). I may not match their intensity, the crumbling on the floor and weeping kind of stuffs but that doesn’t mean I’m not affected. I am. I really am. I’m just not over-the-top. It’s not like I expected to pass considering everything that I secretly went through, my complacency and my preoccupations with what people refer to as useless informations. Besides, I already had the gutfeel ever since I came back from the yearend break. I already knew. I assessed. And in my entire nursing life, that was the only assessment I was sure of. Sadly, it turned out right.

One BIG mess

2008-03-15T15:14:00.007+08:00

Sometimes we want to do things for the wrong reasons. Case in point: why I want to transfer to another school. Somehow, after so many months, I realized that I have not fully recovered from the emotional trauma I got from Ma’am Tecson. A certain part of me still believes that she’s the devil packed in a body of a cute and chubby Chinese cherub. Funny, because of all the reasons I’ve came up with, this topped the list. Way to go bitch. Thanks for destroying my self-esteem.

But anyhoo, this is the rundown…

I don’t want to be stared at like the word LOSER is written all over my forehead. I don’t want to be silently judged or get pity stares from my Clinical Instructors. I highly revere Ma’am Alasagas and Ma’am Quilang so much that I don’t want them to see me as some letdown. Maybe I am stupid. I can accept that. Also the thought of me sitting with the audience while my batchmates don that black toga will just reaffirm that. Not that I really cared about what they think because I know my capacity. I know I’m smart. Heck, I’m smarter than… ok, too much. I don’t have to validate myself. I know my entrance exam scores. I am not mentally-challenged. Academically- uninclined, perhaps, but definitely not DUMB.

So for now it looks like I’ll be spending quite sometime in school. Major bummer (read: I have other plans.) But gee, I guess there’s no use in blaming myself now. My life’s a one great mess. But unlike Pollock, mine doesn’t sell millions. Failure will never be a selling point.

P.S.

If this helps, there isn’t anyone on our college who is as pop culture savvy as me. I know a lot. But in the end, does knowing who Jackson Pollock and the mess he made matter? Like I’ll get an A for that.

Rub it in

2008-03-10T15:46:00.005+08:00

Screw all that “maybe-God-has-other-plans” texts. It doesn’t help. That F mark would still be a friggin’ F after a million texts. Truth be told, most of the time, those kind have all but one aim; to rub it on your face that you failed MedSurg. Then again, there are people who love life, spew rainbows and stuffs and are just downright genuine.

But then there are people who are blinding-flash-of-the-obvious fakers who suddenly asks “if I already knew?”. I mean, like, God, I may be “academically uninclined” but I’m not that stupid enough not to know that I failed. She evidently was rubbing it. So I had just to rub back with “What? About the show? We’ll start taping soon and the spiels are now almost ready… Yeah, I know. I failed. Congrats to you.”. And so I rubbed back by saying that this stupid guy could be
hosting a new local show soon. Backoff.

So into Ramy

2008-02-17T11:59:00.004+08:00

There is something about that Ramiele Malubay that I find it hard to decide whether I should be triggering my latent sex toy fetish or sense of national pride. But should I even care? Sure, Ramy is cute (in size) and pretty but the girl’s got talent. She could win. She could beat Carly, Kristy, Kady and Brooke. Or not. Hey, a guy can hope. This could be the year of the Pinoys in AI, considering how we fared in the auditions (cue in Renaldo Lapuz). Just watch the show so you won’t miss out on all the fun.

Get over it

2008-02-10T11:28:00.017+08:00

Think of grades, and the usual set of words come to mind, from “Boy, am I in big trouble” to the “Fuck, what have I done” cussing. (Pardon, that’s just my vocabulary) But what do those sentences suggest really? In my case, those words are synonymous with F and some Ds. But am I complaining? Hell, no. Usually, I get mad (at myself) then swear to change (at myself again).Besides, I knew I was going to fail. And that I deserved every bit of it. I knew. I assessed.

So can you just imagine my utter disgust to people who couldn’t get over their low marks on a certain evaluation? You failed. We get it. So can we just move on now?... Also, I don’t have to tell you that moving on means no retaliation to those that evaluated you low, do I? That is so not classy. And what would that tell us about you?

To the little whiny bitch I love

2008-02-10T11:28:00.016+08:00

How is it remotely possible that half of the 20 castaways of Survivor Micronesia looked nothing like, well, castaways? They certainly look typical, average and, if anything, fans. But then, that is the premise of the show. This season, fans are pitted against favorites from previous seasons. So, I’m thinking, if ever, by any chance, I would be on the show, am I just going to register the way the fans did on tv? Typical. Average. Fan. Boohoo! How would you feel? You loved the show since day one, wanted to be a castaway your whole life but ended up looking no more than just a fan. Seriously?

So for this season, I would be rooting for the fans. Eliza, no matter how I heart you or despite how Yau man is such an inspiration and regardless how Cirie brings sunshine to my life, I would still be backing up my fellow fans. Even though it pains me so much to be not behind you, I could just not leave them. I must support my people. I’m so sorry.

P.S. I saw you fell and hit your head. And where the hell is Peih Gee?

It's '08, dude.

2008-01-11T12:21:00.001+08:00

On New Year's eve you did exactly what the feng shui said. You washed your hands with calamansi, put some on your face while some crazy thought of smudging some on your genitalia popped. Wait, don't tell me you did. That far? Dude. Calamansi on hand; acceptable. Calamansi on face; narcissism. Calamansi on your willy makes you a man-whore. All that to attract money in 2008? Genitalia? Again, dude.
And what a great jump you did. So is that annual now? It spoke a lot about you and your dedication, if not obsession to grow taller. Too bad those don't do much on your limbs. You're still 5'9. and short. The only sane thing you did this New Year was to vow not to overanalyze things. I must say, I'm impressed. Overanalization means no drama. And no drama means no substance abuse. Booyah!
So except for that oath to think less and considering your strong inclination for all things abnormal, I just want to say, "Dude, didn't it ever occur to you that feng shui are for imbeciles who will remain as such for the rest of their crappy life? It's the friggin' new year and you're still you doing the same thing you did last year."

Stop Me.

2007-12-31T16:18:00.001+08:00

I never thought of myself as dumb- well, occasionally yes but it’s nothing serious, nothing low-self esteem inducing kind of thing. I even had this weird feeling of greatness and that someday I could change the course of history. Not being stuck up or anything and having been a product of Special Education, I considered myself somewhat, well, special and behind my lanky frame lurks a certain genius waiting to be unleashed.

It wasn’t until my group and I mulled over our pathophysiology of Cystitis I grasped that other than my presence and the moral support that went along with it, I wasn’t of any intellectual help. I felt stupid, in plain English. There they were talking about phagocytosis and all I could think about was phago-what and whether they were talking Greek. Gee, where was I when everyone was taking anatomy and physiology?

It was a humbling experience. And a wake-up call for me. I realized I should cut off on my guilty pleasure of making fun of pretty people that had sniffed out too much glue as kids (read: empathy) because whether I like it or not, I’m one of them. So the next time I’m going to make an effort to stop those that are manifestly unfit from continuing their kind and join the Stop Stupid People cause on Facebook , I might as well think twice because stopping them also means stopping me. Stopping. Me.

the good, the bad, and the fugly.

2007-12-16T13:23:00.001+08:00

Pretty faces, I believe are in this world to give visual community services of some sorts. Once they start hooking up with, say, those of the lesser species, they ante up their presence to higher humanitarian levels. Then I admire them for their bravery, if not bow before them for having the stomach to wake up every morning in bed next to a horrendous-looking creature. Such courage deserves a Nobel prize. Does that Heidi girl ring a bell? And she thinks Seal is sexy. Weird. But not.Having those fugly creatures thinking they're all these and that is.

Not that I'm superficial because I believe that inner beauty trumps outside beauty (well, almost) but once a fugly takes his/her perceived status to stratospheric heights without any concrete basis, I just want to take a mirror and stick it in front of their face and burst that Helium bubble of self-esteem.

Heck, Petra Nemcova is freaking hot but she doesn't say it. She even had an English douche bag for a squeeze. And yet there are still people who don't look good and have the worst attitudes! The least these fugly people could do is be at least kind to compensate on their lack of aesthetic value. Sometimes makeups just don't work, kindness does.

pornoholic anonymous

2007-12-05T09:55:00.001+08:00

I got excited in going home last weekend because I've secured myself a copy of (gasp!) the Debbie Does Dallas... Again DVD. That's a remake of one of the most important movies in porn history. Turned out the insides of the pack contained some generic TV series that I couldn't care less about. Major Bummer. That almost ruined my weekend until I remembered that I had vowed to myself to limit my insatiable porn consumption. That's like Paris Hilton vowing to celibacy. Imposible!

If watching porn for n hours straight and for it to get in the way of my activities of daily living means addiction then maybe I am an addict. I'm not going to deny that. I'd like to think of it as my pain management. And I'm in great amount of pain, believe me. Once, I broke down, I grabbed a drink and watched porn. I'm OK after that.

When I was 14 I did some exhibitionism (but that's just oversharing). Let's just say that as a kid, I once wanted to act in one of 'em pornos. Who knows, when I finally lose my mind, I might. And you'd be like “fuck, that's my classmate screwing like crazy”. LOL.

'97

2007-12-05T09:40:00.000+08:00

The year was 1997 and I was young. 10 years later I'm still fixated on anything and everything that came out that year. And I'm not getting younger, I tell you.

I bet you think '97 was synonymous with that sunken ship movie and its ubiquitous theme song. I can't argue with that- but I'd like to think more of happy thoughts, really. Like, Truly Madly Deeply from that gay guy and straight dude collectively known as Savage Garden who beat Celine's ass at the MTV Asia Hitlist. I couldn't thank them enough for that. They saved my eardrums! Then there was Shania Twain who sang her heart out through You're Still The One.. I couldn't get over that. Or her. Or who could ever forget Natalie Imbruglia's version of Torn? Now, who could ever forget that? Her surprisingly bearable monologue fill in the void Alanis left while on hiatus.

The year ended with Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls and Hanson ruling the year end Top 100. SO what if it was pop? It wasn't as bad like you think it was. I fucking loved it because back then I didn't know about shit. After 19 years of existence, Ive come to realize that the world is not really a happy place to live in. And all I could ever do is listen to songs from '97 because they made me happy. They sure did.

unfinished insurance business

2007-11-29T12:15:00.001+08:00

Mika woke up and realized he's dead. The Grim Reaper then showed up looking purple and bloated, scratch that, in a form of a purple balloon. Having enjoyed Life in Cartoon Motion, GR (Grim's nickname) thought that the least he could do is to make Mika's journey to the other side a bearable experience. Secretly though, he was a fan. And the reason behind the singer's death is for him to enjoy Mika's falsetto- live. GR loves live music. Ever wonder why Jim Morrison, Joey Ramone and the likes died? Now you know. He tied himself to Mika and flew him up in the air.

Up above the atmosphere Mika felt good. Floating felt just like sex minus the sweat or marijuana. He couldn't distinguish. And he didn't care. But just when he thought death felt so damn good, he remembered his life insurance. It wasn't fully paid. He wasn't satisfied with the services offered by his current insurance company. He wanted to get a new one but it was already late. He was halfway there. But the whole thought made him feel uneasy. He didn't want to die without a life insurance that promises to Reduce Premiums , makes him Save Money on Insurance and offers Cheap Smoker Insurance Rates . He didn't want to die unless he gets an insurance.

Suddenly, the whole floating experience got excruciatingly painful like some post-op without his morphine. He told GR he couldn't continue because of some unfinished business. It pained GR but he couldn't let his new-fangled singer down. He didn't want to be selfish. He knew how it felt. He didn't have insurance either. And so he gave in. He gave Mika's life back but made him promise to call him whenever he felt like dying. Mika Agreed.

The next morning, Mika woke up with a new idea for his My Happy Ending video.

Motivate me

2007-11-18T11:37:00.002+08:00

Two years ago, never did it occur to me that my motivations for taking up nursing would falter. Last time I checked, it was all sturdy. But lately, you would come up to me, express your oohs and ahhs because I chose to take up such a noble profession. I then savored your admiration for a second, smiled back at you and said the uttered the words, “If you only knew” at the back of my head. Secretly, I harbored dreams of green bucks, earning, saving, spending and earning them again to finance my education- by which I mean creative writing and photography, probably change my citizenship and join Survivor, try my luck in Hollywood. Or maybe do porn. My parents would have been so not proud.

But those motivations are clearly blasted off like some misplaced Buddhas in Afghanistan, having been failed at pharmacology, taking it up again this semester and, you stepping into every shoes of all the people I'm being introduced to, saying your oohs and ahhs every time I said that I'm taking up nursing. But, no. Those admirations don't help like it used to. You are no longer helping. Yes, I liked the admiration. But I don't care about what you think. And stop smiling.

This is hard to say, but I'm not sure If I want to be where I am right now. Some kids would take my slot in a heartbeat any minute I opt out. The problem is, it's too damn late. If everything pans out right, I could be graduating really soon. My parents would then be proud of me. And I will no linger be eaten up by guilt knowing that all this time my folks think highly of me and have already spent a lot.

Until I can build some kind of a better structure for my motivation, like helping the sick and the needy without doing colossal damages on my pursue of material comfort or when I finally get over your admiration, I'm good to go. But for now, I need to study. And tomorrow, I'll deal with my issues.

fill in the blank

2007-11-07T10:55:00.001+08:00

I wish I were a multiple choice question. At least I'd have an answer. Because next year, I'll be celebrating my 2nd decade of existence on earth and I still don't know what I really want. This thought just keeps on building up like a pile of crap and all i do is bottle it up.
I'm thinking of doing Crystal Meth to find that solace and answer I'm looking for but I know I shouldn't unless I ant to unleash the mentally ill person in me.
I'm taking up nursing all for the wrong reasons. Sometimes, I think of committing suicide but I couldn't break my parents' heart. They've already invested a lot on me. I should have done it years ago when I didn't owe them that much.
I'd do anything to be dj or be on Globe Trekker... a tour guide or just simply write or just bum around.
I flunked pharmacology because of my plain stupidity. I took for granted stuffs I should have given attention to because I thought I was gonna get laid. Heck, I didn't even get a kiss. Lately, I think I'm falling and it sucks! No matter how I try to keep the door shut, love has a habit of coming back.
I wish I'd be given answers to choose from. But no, all I got is a blank and I have no idea on what to put on that void. I don't know. I just don't know.

Too Much Information Can Kill You

2007-10-03T13:36:00.002+08:00

I got killed last night because I knew too much. I'm just probably too hard on myself. My practice teaching didn't really suck that much. In fact, I think I did well. I had audience rapport going on in there, backed up with eloquence and slight confidence. I have every right to brag! It even came to a point wherein my classmates were drawn towards me. Problem is I got so overwhelme d with all the attention that I ended up dropping useless information all over the place. Those infos kept on falling like bombs over Baghdad. I ended up not finishing my topic!

I think I'll have minus points for poor time management. Ma'am Dean probably thought I was trying too hard to impress. I thought i'd do good making the whole thing like Mo's Good Times on radio. I think I'm paranoid. I think so much, don't I? Maybe if she din't expressed how she'd wait for my performance a week ago, I wouldn't be feeling like this. To be commended for having the gift of gab by s omeone I look up to and respect so much was all I ever wanted but that whole incident just totally jinxed it. That was way too much pressure!

Well maybe I did try too hard to impress. I got an F for the midterms! But I swear I didn't read those stuffs for the sake that I could drop references come practice teaching. I knew most of it way before I was assigned to do the topics. I read too much useless information that in the end it remained still as futile as hell.

Funny how the only thing that made me think highly of myself was the same thing that pulled me down. I may know a lot but in the end it didn't matter... because sometimes, too much information can kill you. I should know. I just got killed last night.

blinded by the white light

2007-08-12T12:18:00.001+08:00

I'm sorry but am I the only one who thinks that the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombing served the Japs right? You can call me an insensitive prick, or even worse, throw tomatoes at me by saying that. Hon, I know my history. I know Japan attacked Peal Harbor. I know the Americans retaliated. I also know that the Japanese back then were self-serving, egoistic, ultra nationalistic freaks. they were so cocky they got a big pile of dirt in return. So Shinzo, heed my warning. Unless you acknowledge the fact that some horny chinky-eyed soldiers of yours ravaged women all across Southeast Asia, You're going down.
My religion professor once asked the class if we believed in karma. All those that raised hands were no longer Christians unless we renounce karma. We did. That was plain bull. I mean, when did Christianity become based on that criterion?
When we do things, there are reactions. A DUI stint means 23 days of jail time. When one becomes fidgety, he smokes and when he gets horny, Lord knows what he does. It's that simple. When one mops the emergency room, he gets an unexpected DR case. When one attacks a harbor, he gets bombed in return. That's the natural order of things. Some call it Newton. I call that karma.

Prozac for Everyone

2007-07-22T09:04:00.001+08:00

When our class brainstormed for our pharmacology project proposal, nothing came up but a website and a documentary. I suggested a Free Prozac for Everyone Campaign but nobody took me seriously, like they always did by the way. Well, yeah, I wasn't serious. Actually, I was thinking more of pushing through that documentary with less documentary and more indie short film kind of vibe and upload it on youtube but they shunned my opinion. again. I was serious that time- and near genius! But tarpaulin it is.
How about accepting things for a change? I asked myself. Instead of pulling a Simple Plan whine on how the world sucks, why not try to pull an Alanis and rock that hand in my Pocket optimism? Uh, no thank you. Moreover this isn't about that project. I couldn't care less about that thing. I've never been the academics kind of guy anyway.
This is more about the things I just have to accept because I couldn't do anything about it. Kind of like the effect of fascism imposed way back in this country. Take Ma'am *e**** for example. She abused me verbally. She made me feel stupid and got me all misty (secretly, of course) and I couldn't counter that unless I want to get booted off the College of Nursing. It's not like her temper or "accidentally" pricking of some students with syringes or her (citation needed) favoring of fellow Chinese girls will give her the boot. I'm just an ant against an ant bully and all I could ever do is blog about it. Words of Sarah Silverman from the 2007 movie awards, "She needs structure. She needs someone who could take some time to tell her that she's one rude little pig." should have been made for her.
Then there are my house mates. Until now, I'm still wondering if they were taught of as kids the word cleanliness because their spoiled food always remain in the fridge for months, theirs dishes left unwashed on the sink and clothes whether clean or not, scattered everywhere. I live in a pigpen in plain english. Too bad I don't do other people's dirty work. I'm proud to be squeamish. Hey, if you found out that your underwear was used by your house mate, who wouldn't be?
Last is the weather. Last weekend, I found myself walking to the other slide of the landslide and did all that only a few hours after my minor toe operation. Hey, that is no ordinary feat when you have to traverse mud, rocks, water and kilometers of queueing vehicles. I could only pray for my wound not to get infected.
How's that for an experience. So can you blame me if I think I need Prozac?

shh...shut up.

2007-07-04T14:20:00.001+08:00

If there's one thing I realized yesterday, aside from how bad that June 3 went, is that I'm not the quiet person I always thought I was. It was like having thinking-you-were-Kurt Cobain-only-to-find-out-you're-Mo Twister moment. Scary, huh? And it ain't funny by the way. More like a horror movie to me.

It started last saturday. I was asked by someone who works in the library to shhh. I could only utter a yeah, whatever in return. I swear I wasn't noisy. I was just talking.
Yesterday, another shhh came from someone in a form of a cheap, self-righteous skank. The nerve! Go work in another corner you whore. You ain't getting caned by me I tell you. Try to study and come back when you're finally smart to me doing that Belinda Bright shh...she walks by night pose. I might avail your services. That''ll happen after a hundred years, right? I swear I wasn't noisy! I was just talking. If she had the authority, I wouldn't be fussing about it right now. But, no, she didn't. So another yeah,whatever from me.

Later that day, I finally got what I asked for. During pharmacology, the level 4 coordinator had a speech concerning male-to-female chit chats and how she hated it. She was referring to me! That was embarrassing, considering I didn't really know a thing in pharmacology. My bad. Well, at least that day taught me something new about myself.

I'm back.

2007-06-15T11:03:00.000+08:00

And I'm back! Oh yeah. And unfortunately so is everything else.

So can you imagine the horror seeing Mischa Barton wearing the totally antibutt crack high-waisted mom jeans? Misch, I tell you, if it weren't for my slight lack off height, we could have been together producing the most mind-blowing orgasms ever known to man. But those jeans? For God's sake! You ended our purely sexual relation before it even started. Damn those inches! I hate people who make me feel short. And you don't look hot on those.

If this semester would teach me anything, it would probably how to survive school living like a zombie. We've had 2 meeting for NCM but I'm already a book behind. Now it feels like I haven't got a time for anything. So no more weekend breathers anymore. I don't even have time to breathe.

Last summer I officially quit 'em Marlboros when I gave my last pack to Katrina Lim (hehe Kat). And yesterday I've had one stick- the first one after that quit. Hey, I was tensed! Besides it was just one stick. And it's menthol. And, and... Ok. I'm so ashamed of myself. To add more to that, It has been three consecutive nights of Tanduay. My issue.

And last but not the least, 2 of my former crushes came back to my life. Had it been the other told me her feelings for me years ago while the other met up with me years before instead of, like, recently, I could have been the luckiest dork on earth right now. I shouldn't have been drinking rhum. But no, everything came back late and the feelings are just no longer there.

And I'm back. Oh yeah. Down to that spiral again.

not dead. yet.

2007-05-12T11:42:00.000+08:00

I really thought I was going to die last Sunday. I had a feeling that that day was IT. It was then I also realized how scared I am to leave some people behind. Yes I do care! I may look like a sociopath but I do have those things you call emotions. It's not like I kill people without feeling any guilt. Heck, I even weeped when Dr. Izzie "freaking hot" Stevens went desperada just so Denny's heart transplant would push through! And in 50 first dates too... but that may be too much information.
I don't know how Kurt did it but the last time I checked, I already got pass through that angsty grunge kid phase. That is so 90's. Peter Parker and Seth Cohen are now proving that the antijock socially awkward type is the new antisocial depressive. Suicide's not for me. Look Kurty here became a rockstar, an icon, and a hero to those poor guys who suddenly woke up getting married to someone like Courtney Love. And I'm still, well, me. I think I'm going to be a nurse. I don't know.
In the middle of last last week, some emotions surged in. This was one of those few times when my numbness falters and I started to show signs of being at least remotely human. I usually go home when this happens. Then I come back numb again. That's the cycle.
And so I went home for what I call a weekend breather. I was supposed to die! My bus was supposed to crash somewhere in the jungles of Bukidnon. But death didn't come. It didn't happen. Praise God for that!

Besides, I'm not ready. Yet.

how to become a hero

2007-04-21T09:22:00.000+08:00

Whenever I feel down all I have to do is think about Milo Ventimiglia's character in Heroes in the hopes that knowing someone famous having the profession I'm doomed to have would do any good. Yeah, actually it does. Wonders, even. For a while its inspiring to see a hospice nurse is considered a hero. Then boom. Gravity pulls you back in and next thing I know, I tell myself that Peter Petrelli's a fake,pure-fiction, self-indulgent,self-righteous ass. A little like me. Bummer.

entry available soon...

2007-03-18T11:51:00.000+08:00

SOS

2007-02-04T11:19:00.001+08:00

If there comes a time you will no longer see that loner guy walking all by his lonesome donning that snob, regal stride he usually does, chances are he’s on the other side of the river, getting education where it is said to be more fun. You don’t want that to happen do you? Or you’re just indifferent about losing a self-absorbed handsome guy in the campus. You have not even noticed me. But if you’re a part of a minute group in the entire Xavier population whose subconscious is in manic adoration over me, then start fretting. Honey, my boat is sinking and if I can’t find a way to save myself I might end up drowning.

Now that the midterm results are out, Its vividly clear on high-def that I’m getting a capital B for Boy Am I in Big Trouble. I’m starting to fail myself again. And I’m heading down for that self-destruction spiral. Again. Ok, maybe I’m no longer that genius kid I always thought I was. Maybe I wasn’t even one. Maybe I was just hype over substance; the kind of Hollywood flick many tasteless people dig; Something that pretended to be an art film when its really not. I’m dumb. Are you happy now? Do I hear a Hawaii-Five Oh in the backgriund? Good. Savor your triumph because for now I concede and by tomorrow, Ill be that ass I always was and the airhead you always wanted to blow up.

Hey, I’m drowning. And if the only way for me to stay afloat in the surface is to give myself false hopes and bloat my ego, I’d do it in a heartbeat. It’s my nature.

Weekend Getaway (of the not so rich and famous)

2007-02-04T11:03:00.000+08:00

Last week I took of for some weekend breather chillaxing in the bucolic splendor of Barobo and ended up skipping a class and missing a rescheduled midterm exam. Despite the hang-ups, that weekend undeniably served its purpose: I hid away from the world, gave myself some fresh air, and got home. Now that’s a powerhouse combination.
The midterm week was so stressful that I seemed to have forgotten to enjoy all the simple pleasures in life. So when I experienced nature, It was as if I tasted it for the first time. I drank water and got big kick out of drinking something that existed way before anyone on earth. The water I drank may even be the water Ernesto Guevarra gulped, Cleopatra bathed with, or what I have just drunk the other day. Drinking never felt so good. Not only did I connect powerbonded with history, but also quenched my thirst. And boy, did it taste good.
Then I sat on the couch, whisked myself from reality, armed with a remote control and finally south R&R once again in the North of Africa, Mexico, and Japan within 2 hours. I didn’t have to spend a single cent and yet I got to play God and slouched in the most comfortable position. Babel is now officially listed on my favorites.
So when my classmates asked why I didn’t show up in a major class and missed an exam, I just smiled. There are some things money can’t buy. But for everything else, I have my mind good in imagining things.

Remember Last Year?

2006-12-17T13:34:00.001+08:00

Remember when Kurt Cobain was found dead with bullet holes in his head and was supposed to be hiding from Courtney Love? I don't. I didn't really know what Nirvana was in the pop cultural landscape until 3rd grade. But that hasn't stop me from taking inspiration from the rock icon. Or something to that effect.
Last year, Kurt made millions just by being himself- being dead. How cool is that? Other than to shut his eyes and rest in peace he didn't have to do anything. Too bad he will never ever experience all the money he is making. Fame has its price.

Remember when the Pepsi CEO graced the cover of Fortune trapped in a coke bottle? I don't. But eventually I knew about it. That time everyone thought of Pepsi as the losing one, trapped in a market Coke dominates in. Coca here may have defeated Pepsi in the cola wars but looking back now, everyone will agree that losing to Coke was the best thing that ever happened to Pepsi. In terms of profits, you might just want to say "Coca, what?". Why try beating something unbeatable? Now that is pure genius.
Last Year, Marissa Cooper finally died. This time its for real. Remember when she first "died"? I do. She Oded herself with Tequila and Vicodin and had to be airlifted from Tijuana back to the OC. High while dying. How cool is that? At least she had fun after discovering her boyfriend is doing her best friend.

Some things are worth to be remembered. Last year may be worth remembering. Or not. You want to be Kurt or Marissa. But don't want to die like Kurt or Marissa. Money and being high may be cool but dying is NOT. Just go do something healthy. That's what Pepsi did. How cool is that? Now that is worth remembering.

Ehem, Rhum and Prozac anyone? How about a gunshot? kidding.

I'm Worth It

2006-12-03T10:16:00.000+08:00

Now that I have finally told my parents, or a parent rather (blame it on some circumstances) and I have been joking about it to my friends (yes, apparently I do have some), I strongly believe that it’s about time that I make it official and confirm to the world that, yes, I’m an egomaniac, narcissistic, self-centered dork. Emphasis on the dork and more emphasis on the first three words that goes hand in hand with their inevitable clientele: self-worth.

It’s not like I told my mom I wanted to do porn because I haven’t yet and it would have been hard (pun not intended) if I told her that. I’m still even questioning myself whether she took me seriously when I spilled my guts totally out. But telling her about my being almost Narcissus was the most liberating experience I’ve ever felt, aside from, of course, walking around the house naked and telling her one time that I was almost flunking in a particular subject.Surprisingly, it wasn’t really much of a surprise to her. All I got was a pat in the back (kidding!)- no, actually more like a word slap on my face followed by a “Hey, its obvious where you got your looks from and your father and I are so proud of your witty banters, kick-ass intelligence and drop-dead gorgeousness but arrogance is something you shouldn’t have gotten from our near perfect gene pool. I’m sorry, but I think you’re not my son.” Ouch. Okay, I made that whole dialogue thing up. All I got were occasional stares of disdain and a lecture on why arrogance is bad. I’m still their son.

Recently in Time magazine, Samuel L. Jackson admitted that he is a narcissist. In my world people have known me to be as such also. No, that had not to be worth something. Just a coincidence. What is wrong with being a narcissist anyway? I’m not a murderer. I did not steal. The only thing that is “wrong” in public opinion is that I put high value on myself and my self-importance. Is that a crime? At least, I’m honest.You may not admit it or may not even be aware of it but there’s a little me in you. Inside your body’s core lurks a little James Asinero waiting to roar out your worth in the world. Or who knows? It might be a Samuel L. Jacson, a Robbie Williams, a Paris Hilton or even a Princess Diana’s son in you.For the first time, a real teen and not Dr. Phil made the proclamation of one’s self-worth an issue. When did you see a dork who is proud to be one? If I were to choose between an inflated balloon and an airless wrinkled one, I would rather be slightly airy than look worse and fell bitter than a bitter gourd. I’ll learn to love myself first, before I’ll learn to love others.

Be your own hero, spread the narcissism bug.

D-listers

2006-08-21T15:48:00.000+08:00

More than a decade ago, MTV catered the needs of innovation-hungry youth by offering the first reality show: The Real World. A decade later, thanks to my favorite show Survivor, it just did not become a recognized TV but also a Petri dish of instant celebrities. Some careers pulled through, but most died faster than you can say “instant”. I guess we already know what B-listers are, right? But they’re not really my problem- Its Gino’s. mine are the outcomes of those effects. See, to use a cliché, everything’s interconnected. A single flap from a butterfly’s wings can cause strong winds halfway around the world or something like that.
The consequences of the reality TV stars production has lead to the rise of another kind of people: The Delusionists, or to be less harsh, I call them the D-listers. Remember William Hung? In case your head needs some shaking, he’s this weird guy who sang She Bangs at an Idol audition. And He’s the perfect personification of what a delusionist is… although by achieving a celebrity status, he automatically became a B-lister. (Now, before I get attacked by some of his loyalists, I’m telling you I have a deep respect for that guy.)
It was William that started a horde of D-listers to audition in any casting call available. There were a lot, of course, but it was this guy who had insurmountable effect on people that everyone from mediocrity to anything lower that that have had the guts to put their faces to shame on television.
Lately, I realized we are being infiltrated by these bunch of people. I felt their presence from human impersonation of bowling pins, drums, tinker toys to nose that grew a nose and vice versa to Mr., /Ms. Know-it-alls that they think they’re this and that. Don’t get me wrong but loving yourself is good as long as it won’t reach to the point that you become the worst ego of all egotists.
Long before MTV came to the world, a handsome young man saw his reflection, fell in love with it, dove for it, and got drowned into oblivion. We don’t want to be the next Narcissus, right? And besided, If William Hung was such a delusionist, at least he didn’t have that much air in his head. Respect!

korean way

2006-03-31T12:06:00.000+08:00

If Madonna reinvents herself from time to time, changing from one painfully portrayed image from to another, from a material girl to a disco queen, but at the end of the day it is still her we see on tv, buttcheeks and all, and not to mention more thin lines on her face. On the parallel side of the wormhole, an adolescent commonly known as me is finding his place on earth and is experiencing the figure of speech that was just mentioned. Instead of a popstar, it is more of a pop quiz that is bombarded to his little brains asking interconnected questions, if not, much like the same. Confused? So am I.

What I’m really talking about are the shards of existential questions our own selves ask us from once in a while. It may come in different verbs but the purpose is just the same: To question our very existence.This time that question comes in a complete package from a bottle of vitamins to a tv commercial and is even immortalized by a jingle that goes “anong meron ang taong happy?”(What does a happy person have?). It may for some people a peace of mind, a lovelife, and a great sex life. For the non-intellects, a piece of mind would do. It may also be as simple as watching your own favorite show or as noble as volunteering to live in an isolated place in Palawan to teach. For the lost souls, taking crack, weed, the “cool stuffs” only to find out that their euphoria is short-lived. Really short-lived. Who said vitamins can make you happy, anyway? And for some people, asking a serious question to a High school friend if he really got someone pregnant after graduation as if it were a joke.(definitely not mine. I was the one asked. And definitely not true!)

The other day, the Philippines was proclaimed on top of the loneliest countries in Asia. This actually came in shock, when just last year the Filipinos were lauded as one of the happiest people in this lonely planet. But boy was I shock when I saw France as one of the lonely countries and Korea on the opposite pole. See, there was this recent survey recently that showed the French were the most happy with their sex life while the Korean women were not. Does this mean that a.) Sex is no longer a factor in attaining happiness? Or b.) The French, by some sort of misfortune, passed their sexual prowess to the land of Sandara Park? But I say its C. Contentment. Maybe the Koreans were just contented with the sex they were having and the French were just insatiable. But seriously, I think it’s all a matter of loving what you got and NOT having what you want. Hmm, Does this mean being Korean is the “in” thing right now?

Because they are just so contented... and it aint because of some stupid vitamins.

Barely Legal

2006-03-09T17:28:00.000+08:00

I guess have to don my birthday suit because I'm finally turning 18. Yeah! right? Right? Wrong. Its more like a boo because I'm getting a year older! And as for my birthday suit... well, maybe. When I finally lose my mind! haha.I still couldn't believe it. I was a kid of rockstar dreams, wet dreams and laziness yesterday but.... wait a minute! I still am a kid of rockstar dreams, wet dreams and laziness. Mom and dad, I do wanna change. But not now. Maybe tomorrow. But what I like about being in the legal age is that I can now do "adult" stuffs like drinking,sex,etc... OK. I'm not gonna go that far. yet. Besides, I seldom drink. I quit smoking. I'm still a untouched. hehe

Spoiled Bread

2006-01-29T20:35:00.000+08:00

I've never seen such a witch in this side of the bread. He's such a witch, he believes in so much mysticism and all. He even have the girls under his spell because they thik he's such a smart dude. Smart. Yeah right. I'm not even impressed at all.

Maybe the fact that he could write our lesson on the board without even looking at his notes could leave one's jaws dropped but one must also put in mind that this Mr. Panis (bread in Spanish) guy has been teaching, according to my guesstimation, more than a century. Ok, I made that up. But count his gray hairs! That alone is a proof. What I'm saying is, he's been teaching the same stuffs over and over again so it shouldn't come out as a shock if he knows history by heart.

Taking up history with him is such a suckfest it makes me want to go back to U.P.. Because back there, we didn't have to deal with dates, weird names, dates and weird names again. It was all why. Back in U.P., we masturbated intellectually, not mimic like a parrot. And my teacher there was cool, not like him who looks like as if taken straight fromthe Amish and thrown down to the modern world... which could also be a reason why he doesn't use microphones despite our dire need of it.

Bottomline is, If Mr. Panis was a bread, he's panis.

To Hell With Kaye

2006-01-12T15:14:00.000+08:00

Just when I thought Kaye Alaba went to hell along with the money she got from my classmates and my phone, then comes her comeback. Oh fuck, not her. If there’s anyone I’d like to do a comeback, It would be anyone but Kaye.

She did pay her sins, did she? Because If she didn’t, I’ll make sure she will. Now, I may come off as a devil (and not to mention a cheapstake) right now but the hell I care. I’m not so much of a forgiving person. Well, I do forget sometimes but I do not forgive. And If by any chance I would, I’ll make sure I got even first. I do not forgive- I get even. No way would I tolerate that self-conscious, in thirst of belongingness, pretentious, social-climber bitch. Maybe her parents could but not me.

I must admit. I feel a little pang of guilt knowing I could flush someone else’s life down the toilet because of P14000. I mean, how cheap is that? But then, when did her life become expensive? She even said it herself. And besides, it was her who made her life cheap.

She even had the nerve to write a letter that she’d end her life because of what I did. Did she really think I’d fall for that? She thinks her lies were good. Well, they suck! And did she really think I’d feel guilty? Ok, I did. But on second thought, why should I? I’m the victim here. I lost my phone to think I offered her my friendship.

News has it that she’s been spotted in the mall. No, not cleaning you silly. She was strolling. Oh well, some people are just thick-skinned, aren’t they?

sloth

2006-01-03T13:36:00.000+08:00

My holiday break didn't become the productive two weeks I wanted it to be. My books were left unopen, the Neil Gaiman novel still unfinished, and the speech unmemorized. I am such a sloth. My schedule was just busy, I guess- busy of sleeping, eating, reading(the newspaper), watching dvd's... you know, sloth things. Now, how am I gonna be on top of my field if I'm gonna stick with this kind of life?

sunny, where art thou?

2005-12-26T11:51:00.000+08:00

Finally the sun shown up after a few days of hibernation! Where the hell have you been sunny? Christmas wasn't the fun I expected to be. It was... dull. And I didn't even know the reason why. If it wasn't for my friend Caryl who texted and asked me how my Christmas was, I wouldn't have found out the reason why Christmas wasn't Christmasy. It was because of the sun. The sun wasn't where it supposed to be was... And *****'s not-being-able-to-reply act didn't even have the slightest effect. Really. Really! Well ok, It did... but just a bit. Besides, I'm not so into her anymore.

Follow you? You're kidding, right?

2005-12-10T22:30:00.000+08:00

I really hate it when people with no authority act as if they're some kind of a god. Dude, I'm not a leader but I'm no follower and never will be. And besides, next time If you pull a some kind of a leader act make sure you are at least half as good-looking and half as smart. See to it that you came from schools I've been to sucker!

the jerk

2005-12-04T20:58:00.000+08:00

I've been thinking what If I'm gonna stay this way forever? Am I gonna be lonely?...
Friends? Yeah I got some. But in the end, does one really have that many friends? And besides, crowds makes me lonely. I'll just feel as if I'm an island in a sea of people.
Sometimes I wish I was a jerk so I could just just play other girls' feelings. But then I'm not. I hate commitments. I hate being attached. I hate being stucked.
Wait a minute, I am a jerk!

PE sucks

2005-11-27T12:29:00.000+08:00

If it wasn't for my PE I should have gone home by now and relish the long weekend. The sad part is I have PE. The saddest part is I've got to have PEs for four consecutive semesters!

Porn Again

2005-11-18T21:06:00.000+08:00

I think I'm just into porn lately.

Failure

2005-11-06T18:25:00.000+08:00

Had I known that all the sacrifices I made of going to that class would just end up like this; I should have dropped that subject earlier this first semester. But then I didn’t want to give up without a fight so I stayed and endured the grueling task of going to that class every single say of the week armed only by my constant crossing of fingers hoping I wouldn’t be called for boardworks just to save myself from humiliation. And surprise, surprise. All my determination and hard work summed up as this; I failed. I failed my college algebra. I have failed myself.
It may be a case of dyscalculia or the teacher was just the perfect personification of an evil witch that didn’t even have a slight pity on people suck in math that an ending as horrible as this resulted. Honestly, I don’t really know the exact reason why I failed and besides, blame-shifting wouldn’t be much of a help right now. But the thing that really frustrates me was the fact that I wasn’t even absent for a single meeting and was just late once. I had the determination its just that I’m no math wizard. God, I should have gone home during math time. It seems that no matter how hard I tried to pass that subject, I’d still fail.
I did everything I could just to save myself from the possibility of taking math twice. I studied really hard. I even attended tutorial classes for that subject but It seemed like “improvement” was an unfamiliar word. And if there was any It would have been just a ripple in a vast waveless ocean. Math was a foreign language I tried to understand and every time it spoke of numbers and graphs I could only utter back in pidgin. I swear I love math but It just had my love unrequited.
Right before I took my grades I prayed for a miracle to happen but, sad to say, the miracle I prayed for did not come. I didn’t wish for a high grade but, heck, a small part of me hoped that I would at least reach the passing mark. So sad I did not. I just did not.

This. Is. Shit.

2005-06-13T14:26:00.000+08:00

I still dont have my uniform. And we're like supposed to wear it today. Thank God its a holiday. But still. I still have have a class tomorrow. That means I've got to have a uniform tomorrow. The problem is it is still not done til wednesday (if the dressmakers assurance is right that is)Now, is this shit or what?. Dear God I need help.

2005-06-10T09:23:00.000+08:00

This is official. I cried on the third day of class. Long story. Lets just say I'm really pissed of not having friends, and tired, and homesick, and just sick of my sked, and... I could go on and on for hours. I cant wait for saturday. I'm going home!

Stuck

2005-06-08T15:40:00.000+08:00

We are starting to go into our separate ways. I guess people do find who they really are when they're in college. Its still three days since class started but the other half are not even showing up. We're gonna have a gathering this friday but I'm not even sure if they're coming. I am. The others have their new friends already but I'm still stuck to them. But what happens if they'll find new friends too? I'm so alone.

I hate my new college life

2005-06-05T09:26:00.000+08:00

I just move in into my new home- I mean house just yesterday. It would be my humble abode for the next few months... specifically this semester. Only a semester since Im planning to transfer to a new college. (My issue.) The city is such a lonely place filled with hypocrites and cold people. And I dont know how long would I be able to survive.

Stupid

2005-04-20T11:11:00.000+08:00

You can afford to be picky. You don't mind your own company at all, and you know within five seconds of meeting someone if there's anything there. Don't spend your time with anyone you're really not interested in. -my forecast on friendster

Oh puleez. Not that its bad but i'm just not that into horoscopes. Im in Cyberia. Cool place. Comfy chair- but not the place. Im not just that comfortable.

Friends.

2005-04-17T17:20:00.000+08:00

I think I dont have friends despite the fact that I have 115 friends on friendster. I dont really care about many of them but the people I thought and even promised thet they are gonna be there for me are not even texting. Now, what am I suppose to feel? Maybe they're busy. But were they busy for the whole year?

College

2005-04-17T17:16:00.000+08:00

Im gonna have myself enrolled tomorrow... and Im not excited.

Real Life Sucks Losers Dry.

2005-04-13T13:55:00.000+08:00

Shit. Its all coming in inside my system a little at a time. My self-made parallel universe is starting to annihilate all by itselt- thanks to all the deep shit this world could offer. Man this is so unfair. My new-fangled phone is starting to overrate... and cheapen every second!, My regrets of not doing good in school starts to creep in after learning the perks of being a valedictorian, All the things I've expected didn't even happen. Oh man I think all these reality bites suck me minute by minute. Is this karma? If it is, Then why is it I'm the only one not doing good?

survivor

2005-03-21T19:47:00.000+08:00

Im graduating tomorrow. And I dont know what to feel. I guess Im numb. The thought of graduation havent really hit my mind that hard yet. And besides, I dont really like my school.(transferee syndrome) In fact, my highschool was like a survivor shooting- for three years. I had to endure being deprive of basic comforts (like watching survivor) and exposed to harsh elements. I should be awarded as sole survivor.

Viva el Pacman!

2005-03-21T11:27:00.000+08:00

Pacquiao lost. No need to expound. I felt like the whole world collapsed.

Aargh!

2005-02-21T08:18:00.000+08:00

Shit! What have I done?