Siege Malvar

I’ve been at work on the second book in the Not Quite Unreal series, and this one feels… different. I don’t know if this is different in a good way, or not, but this one’s different. It’s a lot darker, and it delves deeper into the psyche of the characters.

I must admit: I was riding on the popularity of Gossip Girl when I introduced Roles to the public, but I strongly believe that after reading Roles and Crash, there is no way in hell anyone would mistake NQU for a Gossip Girl rip-off.

Crash: A Not Quite Unreal Novel begins a few days after the events in Roles. Some people got The Call, some didn’t. This is where the downward spiral of everyone’s fates begin. Thematically, I’d say Crash is about luck– finding it, making it, keeping it. Like Roles, I’ve chosen this title because taken into the context of the story, “crash” can mean a lot of things. Forced to choose a logline, I’d probably say: “Everybody’s crashing down.”

As I’ve hinted at the end of Roles, there IS going to be a big “crash” in this book, and someone’s going to die. If you think you got it figured out by now.. well, you’re in for a surprise. And, NO, Crash won’t be a cliffhanger. You will most definitely figure out the following by the end of the book: (a) who died, (b) who’s pregnant, and (c) what happened after the crash.

Will that leave me with nothing to work with for the 3rd book? Nah. I have it all planned. All three books are pretty much done in my head by now, so it’s a matter of translating them to the written word. The ones after the first three are still a bit muddy, though.

Wish me luck, guys!

All married women lies in them the potential to be cruel. Most so in my grandmother.

Aiza, who had served us for a year or so, recently left us. The details of her termination from our household is a bit murky, with her and my grandmother sharing the guilt. First, she said she’s leaving us to live with her boyfriend. When that didn’t work out, she tried coming back, but by then, my grandmother was too hurt by this abandonment by the only household help who lasted her for an entire year (seriously), so Mrs. Malvar sent her a message which basically told Aiza her opinion, probably including a graphic depiction of my grandmother’s version of how much Aiza enjoyed giving fellatio to her paramour.

Though we had to tough it up, and last for a couple of weeks without a help around, we did survive, and eventually, news of a new help on its way reached us.

Three days ago, she finally arrived. Fresh from the province of Marinduque, we welcomed our new household help, hump and all.

Yes. She’s a hunchback.

Not just a hunchback, mind you. But a midget hunchback. My mother described her as “reaching just around the height of Astrud’s breasts”, which converts to roughly 3 feet in normal people’s measurement.

“What are we going to do with her?” I ask my sisters, and my friend Caz. “She can’t reach the sink, she can’t reach the dish rack, she can’t even reach the goddamn stove! How is she going to reach the clothesline? How is she going to reach down the bottom of the washing machine?”

To be fair, our new house-elf is making tremendous effort to prove her worth. She has placed several chairs and stools in the area where she works a lot, and she’s always smiling whenever we would watch her jump up to reach the clothesline.

“I can’t take this,” I tell the people here. “This feels like torturing her.”

On the other hand, would terminating her on the grounds of her disability show prejudice on our side for the disabled? If she can do the work, would it be our fault if we can’t bear the thought of her doing it for us?

Meanwhile, my grandmother is having a blast.

“Did you see her? Did you see her?” my grandmother asks in glee. Her eyes are positively twinkling with excitement. “She couldn’t reach the sink! She couldn’t reach the dish rack! She can’t even reach the stove!” she said. Now, I have said the same thing, if you noticed, but I never said it with as much amusement as my grandmother did.

“Look! Look! She’s trying to hang your clothes!” grandma says, squeezing my arm in delight. She is squealing with inner laughter. I have never heard my grandmother this entertained.

Sometimes, I would catch my grandmother following the new house-elf around just to stare and watch.

At the dinner table earlier tonight, my grandmother demonstrated for my sister Marabelle and I how the new house-elf tried to reach the dish rack. “She was reaching like this!” my grandmother said, waving her hand high up in the air. “Like this!!!” she giggled, unmindful of the house-elf working in the kitchen within earshot.

I’m hoping my grandmother would grow tired of the new house-elf in a matter of days. Maybe one of these days she would stop whispering conspiratorially to me, “did you see her trying to climb the stairs? Did you?”

Because the new house-elf may not be able to reach the dish rack, but she knows where we’re keeping the rat poison, and that’s definitely, conveniently within her reach.

———-

In Jhunalyn, I wrote the lead character’s lineage as “Korean”, making her the first ever interracial domestic helper heroine in history. A few months later, I flew to Seoul, South Korea.

Now, I also wrote in Jhunalyn a character named “Maleficent” who is prone to keeping midgets as pets. She would dress them up in clothes she had specially done for them, and she couldn’t tell the difference between her pet midget and balled-up armadillo. In one episode, she hinted at enjoying the pleasure of having a midget’s head shoved inside her vagina.

Also, in Jhunalyn, one of the lead antagonist is a celebrity debutant hunchback named Quasimanda “Amanda” Reyes.

Now, we got a hunchback midget in our household, and I can’t stop wondering if I’m in the middle of some cosmic anomaly where what I write becomes tangled with my life.

I wonder what’s going to happen to me next if I write a character with a British accent?

I was unfortunate enough to chance upon Codename: Asero on GMA-7 tonight. My grandmother likes to keep ambient noises blaring while she does her Wordhunt puzzles, and this show starring Annabelle Rama’s spawn makes for as much noise as my grandmother’s degrading hearing needs.

Codename: Asero is the perfect show to watch for relaxation; it numbs your brain to a comatose with inane dialogue, dry attempts at banter, and trite plot twists.

Codename: Asero stars Richard Gutierrez, the unfortunate half of the twins that Annabelle Rama’s womb manufactured. At first, I thought Richard Gutierrez could not possibly ruin the role of a cyborg with his robotic acting, but boy, was I wrong. True, Richard Gutierrez is known for his mechanical, robotic, dense, robotic, stiff, robotic, wooden, robotic acting, and it’s a wonder how he managed to screw up a role that called for the lack of any emotions.

Perhaps, this Terminator-Robocop rip-off could learn some from its predecessors. Though both franchises call for their lead actors to assume the role of anthropomorphic semi-sentient machines, they never settled for any performance less than intense. Richard Gutierrez, unfortunately, does not know intense if intense was to be a ten-wheeler truck rampaging directly towards his pretty face. With Arnold’s Terminator and Sly’s Robocop, the audience could sense the intensity radiating off from the armored mechanical heroes; with Chard’s Asero, however, the audience has a better chance of feeling some heat by putting Madame Auring and moymoy palaboy in the same room, without their clothes on.

Hell, the Autobots and the Decepticons from The Transformers showed more intensity than Richard Gutierrez. At least those CGI saviors/destroyers gave us a performance, whereas Richard Gutierrez only did what he knows how to do: look pretty. No wonder Annabelle Rama had to fight a lot of battles to get her children work. Shame on the awards giving body that will ever give any of her broods distinction in the craft of acting.

Heart Evangelista’s charm, charisma, and talent are wasted on this series. By limiting Ms. Evangelista to the role of the lead’s lady love, the spotlight is stolen from the show’s only real star. Heart Evangelista could carry the weight of the show on her frail, tender shoulders, but she is relegated instead to a position that calls for her to restrain her talents in order to avoid overshadowing Annabelle Rama’s spawn in her brilliance.

What Richard Gutierrez lack in talent, the production makes up for with the ensemble. With Caridad Sanchez, Carmina Villaruel, Isay Alvarez, and other equally talented thespians in the cast, Richard Gutierrez’s impotence in acting is somewhat alleviated. Oh, Richard Gomez, The Ham of all Ham Actors, is also in the cast, but aren’t we all used to Richard Gomez’s acting impotence by now?

Yet, for all of Richard Gutierrez’s acting impotence, the small screen’s golden, wooden boy has never been out of work since he was circumcised. If that’s any indication of the future of Philippine television, then pray hard, dear viewers. There is no hope. There is no bright future. There is no progress.

There is only Richard Gutierrez, and his face may be pretty, but the future of TV isn’t going to be.

Maybe it’s not Paris, and the next table does not hold a party of loud philosophers and their dense philosophies, and there’s no starving artist sketching tourists for a living nearby, and there are no pigeons being chased off by lovers holding hands, but it’ll do.

I am at the Figaro outside our subdivision, and I am supposed to be writing a suite of poems commissioned by an internationally renowned literary and performing arts group which I will be working with soon. Instead, I am making full use of their “free Wi-Fi”. Said “free wi-fi” comes with it the condition that I must spend 200php worth of consumables here. Today’s a national holiday, and they’re closing in an hour. To abuse this ‘value-added service’, I have decided to download heaps of movies while I make my 5-cheese pizza and iced coffee last me an hour.

There are three popular coffee places near our place, but I prefer Figaro over Mocha Blends and Starbucks. The Starbucks is a bit farther off, and the noise from the callcenter agents chainsmoking downstairs at the Tapa King is too distracting in their intriguing overt camaraderie and subtle backstabbing. The Mocha Blends on the  other hand is peopled with  lesbians and the nearby suburb’s slew of desperate housewives. Plus, they play Rihanna too loudly.

Figaro, I like. They have this nouveau parisian motif in gold and brown, and the jazz music’s not too obtrusive. I was in Seattle’s Best the other night, and there was this fag-hag tandem who couldn’t appreciate the jazz music, so they whipped out their phones and played Low by Flo Rida. Really classy, that duo.

Also, Figaro’s a local company that uses barako beans. I’m an amateur coffee connoisseur, and I take pride in my knowledge of coffee beyond the ‘frappucino’ variety. I was drinking coffee since I was five, brewed, and made from local beans. Barako is the Chuck Norris of coffee beans, as the whole world will agree with me. I used to take my coffee in my milk bottles. I’m that hardcore.

Figaro also has some sense of corporate social responsibility. Click here to learn more.

The 5-cheese pizza I’m devouring as I write is vaguely described as a thin-crust pizza of 5-cheese  (no surprise there): mozarella, feta, parmesan, cheddar, and pizza cheese. Hmm… The cheddar, with it’s tangy bitterness and soft creaminess is quite obvious once you’ve taken a bite. The feta’s, hmm…, the feta’s discernible only because the description made you aware that there’s feta in the mix. The mozzarella’s pretty much in there too, but the parmesan takes more effort to get your attention. Now, what’s really bothering me is the “pizza cheese” they’re talking about. What could this mystery cheese be? How can this “pizza cheese” be any different from the other 4?

So, I googled a bit to find out more about “Pizza Cheese”. Turns out, “pizza cheese” :

is a pasteurized process cheese food designed to melt well on pizza while remaining chewy. It is sometimes used on commercially produced pizzas in North America, where some people may mistake it for the more traditional Mozzarella. Pizza cheese is formulated so that it can be made with basic cheese making equipment but without the additional equipment and processing that true Mozzarella requires.

It has a soft texture, and is designed to melt well. Once melted, it typically has a slightly ‘stringy’ quality when pulled or bitten into.

There you have it. It’s basically a poser Mozzarella, and is the bastard son of milk and bubble gum.

So, if you’re wondering, what is this blog entry all about?

Well, I don’t know. I guess this is called a warm-up. I usually jot down things freely before rolling up my sleeves and getting down to work.

Oh, live update: the coffee dude said they’re closing in 5 minutes.

Bye, guys!

Poj & Faith from Chug Cadiogan on Vimeo.

Preps: Sofitel
Church: Bamboo Organ Church, Las Piñas
Reception: Eco Trend, Las Piñas
Photo: Kix Tavora
Coordinator: Fab Occassions
08-08-08 is said to be the luckiest wedding date of the year. For us, Poj and Faith is our
lucky charm. Since this couple booked us, our weddings started piling up.

——————-

Click on the links above for more details on the creative minds responsible for what is now known in the media as The Biggest Wedding of Bunnies in Decades.

And if you’re wondering about the theme used in this video, it’s called “Requiem for a Dream”, and has recently been heard on the the trailers of The Lord of the Rings, Sunshine (starring Cillian Murphy), and Babylon A.D. (starring Vin Diesel). It’s also the theme I used for our new game (Dekaron)’s trailer, but the other version got approved instead. If I’m not mistaken,it’s composed by Clint Mansell.

This is an amazing project from Malaysia. Branded as the “Read While Waiting Project“, Malaysians will join together to promote literacy in their country. You have to watch the video because it explains the whole project.

————————————

I think this is amazing COMPARED TO WHAT FILIPINOS, Asia’s Biggest Whores, have come up recently:

* World Record for Biggest Corpowhores by putting an entire building inside a giant condom designed to look like an ad for Levi’s. Link here.
* World Record for Worst Gossip Girl Rip-off for “Lipgloss”, a shameless production from the rebranded (AND OFF TO A SCREWED START, ‘GRATS GUYS!) TV5. Directed by pornographer Chris Pablo. Video here.
* Various Royalties of Stupid Human Tricks including “Buko King”, “Bumbilya Queen”, “Pako King”, “Siling Labuyo Queen”, and other genetically superior creatures in the field of cheap, childish entertainment. Boy, we’re so proud of you guys. While THE REST OF THE WORLD only have their GOLD-WINNING OLYMPIADS to be proud of, the Philippines has YOU GUYS PROVING TO THEM THAT WITH PRACTICE, ANYTHING STUPID ENOUGH TO BE CONCEIVED CAN BE PERFECTED TO AN ART FORM.
* Begging for It Award for “Virtual Rally” project. Mar Roxas struck me as a smart statesman, until he came up with this. Boy, if this is his “brainchild”, the “brainparents” must be cousins. Thank you, Mar Roxas, for taking People Power away from the unwired and technologically illiterate majority. Apparently, for Mar Roxas, People Power resides with those who enjoy representing themselves as cute tarsiers, cute wrestlers, cute angry pink bunnies, and cute anthropomorphic isaws. Somewhere in hell, Karl Marx is getting a hard-on from the anticipation of fucking the throat of whoever came up with this idea.
* The Man Who Gave Birth (formerly, The Pregnant Man on Oprah), Reynaldo Lapuz, Canister in the Ass Fag from Youtube.com, Thriller Dancing Rapists and Murderers from Cebu on Youtube.com, moymoy palaboy, and Tessa Prieto-Valdez (who I think will be driven to suicide in the future when we no longer care enough to pay her any attention).

Special Award for Biggest Attentionwhores for an Ensemble, and Most Notable Fail at Being Improv, goes to Eksena Manila (which I will not link to because to do so will only gratify them). They do nothing but remakes of stunts already pulled successfully in other countries. They have no originality. They’re in it for the attention, as they admit to it in their site. Eksena Manila is composed of frustrated actors and wannabe artists. They’re the most annoying group of people ever to assemble, next to the Philippine Senate (any term), and Jessica Soho– bumaba respect ko sayo for featuring them. Are you running out of stories, Jessica Soho? Do you see now how you were suckered into featuring them, thereby satisfying their desperate call for attention? I bet these kids fit the profile of middle-class, middle child, largely ignored throughout their developing years, underachievers, high school nobodies.

WAKE THE FUCK UP, PEOPLE. We’re getting left behind because YOU’re all too busy watching wannabes on TV and porn on YouTube.com. WAKE THE FUCK UP, PHILIPPINES. You’ve been WORSHIPING THE WRONG GODS. WAKE UP, MY FELLOW FILIPINOS. Take a hard look at yourselves and acknowledge that we are a nation of losers whose pride lies in the hands of, who, Charise Pempengco? IS THAT IT?

IS THIS ALL WE CAN DO? Novel records and trivial achievements?

IS THIS ALL?

EVERYONE’S too hungry for attention.

Please, learn the difference between fame and infamy. If we can’t take a joke from Desperate Housewives, then we should live lives that wouldn’t be seen as such… a big, desperate housewife joke.

From their write-up:

Apples & Snakes celebrates 25 years of pioneering the UK’s spoken word scene with a stunning limited edition album on CD, LP and digital download that covers poetry, storytelling, spoken word, hip-hop, jazz-soul and grime. Starring a selection of leading artists of the spoken word who overlap with music, theatre and comedy; including Ty, Salena Godden, Roger Robinson, Charlie Dark, John Hegley, Jean ‘Binta’ Breeze, Polarbear and Michael Rosen, and produced by the inimitable Drew Horley (Ty, De La Soul, Natalie Williams) alongside a selection of young producers. The album is a unique state-of-the-nation commentary on multi-cultural Britain that combines astute storytelling with a joyful and visceral musical experience. Words and song are underscored by Drew’s beats to create a unique genre-bending musical tornado that demonstrates the breadth of the scene that Apples & Snakes has nurtured. twofive is an uplifting album that celebrates sheer funkiness and diversity of the spoken word scene.

I want a copy of this album NOW. If you have the extra dough to make poor lil Siege happy, then order a copy of this album online, and send it to me. Please?

OR if you spot this album in any record stores in Metro Manila, please inform me where. I really want to have a copy of this album.

Thanks y’all!

Peace. Around the world. For generations.

UNREPORTED MURDERS

TRESE Cases 5-8
Creators: Budjette Tan & KaJo Baldisimo
ISBN: 971-92574-9-0
B&W comic book
SRP: P140.00

*Currently available in all Pandayan Bookshops;
this weekend in Comic Quest and Comic Odyssey branches

Siege Malvar, Corpodrone

Awww, my workspace looks so bleak. Hahaha… I should put more details, right? I’m thinking mirrored ball, and tea set. And a canopy.  A spice rack might do the trick, too.

Oh, click image for larger view.  Taken by the office paparazzi, Beau Randell.

I want to believe that I didn’t waste my money watching The X-Files: I Want to Believe.

I want to believe that the latest X-Files movie is NOT the X-Files movie I waited so long for.

I want to believe that the cult hit tv series I grew up watching is no way related to the shiteous movie I just saw.

I want to believe that Dana Scully and Fox Mulder are having sex not just for the fans, but because they actually still have some of the chemistry which made them TV’s biggest rockstars of the 90’s.

I want to believe that the next X-Files movie won’t be as dragging as this one, nor will the next one be a little Monster-of-the-Week story spread thinly over too big a medium to actually make any sense.

I want to believe that the next time anyone casts Xzibit as an FBI agent, he would actually shoot some motherfuckers down.

I want to believe Dana Scully is not using botox.

I want to believe that in real life, you can actually Google “stem cell research” and come up with the RIGHT information to : (a) cure an incurable condition, and (b) uncover a shady scientific operation involving the Russians living in West Virginia.

I want to believe that the movie is Chris Carter’s idea of a joke, and that he’ll be releasing the real one in 2012.

I want to believe they didn’t copy a B-movie plot of Russians doing head transplants to pretty blondes. No, they didn’t.

I want to believe that the movie is not Chris Carter’s desperate plea to have the X-Files re-opened, now that he has proven he can write thematically.

I want to believe the movie is not just a mid-season episode.

I want to believe the movie had more than one pilot episode’s budget.

But if to see is to believe, and what I saw is any indication of my faith, then call me a skeptic.

Here are more shots from what I am now dubbing as The Poj - Faith Wedding Bonggang-bonggang Extravaganza.

The couple doing their “first dance as a couple”.

I look old here. But oddly symmetrical.

With Jason. I believe I look hot when I do this face, just like fat people believe they’re as cute as kittens when they talk in LoLSpeak.

With the senyorita, Caz, and Flery and Jason. This is me summing up Dolphy’s philosophy on humor: funny face = funny.

The chinita senyorita and I.

May blocking pa talaga kami di ba?

Damn, we’re fierce. Hahaha… Our PerezHilton.com moment.

I got two of these photos from Becs, but mostly their from Dhenzian.

I used to be friends with Dhenzian, back when everyone called her Dennise. But she started getting weird. First, she threw her entire identity by dropping her name and merging with her boyfriend, the person formerly known as “Ian”. Now, Dennise and Ian are one, and thus, IS known as the collective identity Dhenzian.

Seriously. There’s never an “I” with the Dhenzian. It’s all “we”.

And the other half of Dhenzian, the “Ian” part, is one big walkin’ talkin’ bullshit. He tells these stories but none of them true. How do we know? Well, one time, we were talking and he was:

Ian: Yeah, I went to the UP.
Me: (who’s ACTUALLY from UP) Really? What’s your student number?
Ian: Student number? (hesitant)
Me: Yeah. You don’t know your student number? Man, that’s the first thing they make us memorize in UP. Are you 2000? 2001?
Ian: 2000!
Me: 2000? 2000-A or 2000-B?
Ian: 2000-A.

Amazing, right? First of all, in the University of the Philippines, we have this system where you have to ALWAYS KNOW your student number. You can forget your name, but you don’t deserve to stay in the University if you can’t sing your student number anytime you’re asked for it.

Also, that was a trick question: there’s no A or B when it comes to student numbers in the UP.

And it goes on…

Me: And what’s your major in the UP?
Ian: Music.
Me: Interesting. Area of concentration?
Ian: What’s that?
Me: We’re you studying voice? theory? orchestral conducting?
Ian: Saxophone.
Me: Tenor or Bass?
Ian: Bass.
Me: Who are your influences?
Ian: What?
Me: People who inspire you to play the saxophone. Idols?
Ian: Kenny G.

Hahahhaa… like Kenny G. ever played Bass Sax.

Well, everyone in our group had their I-caught-Ian-in-a-lie moments, and it’s so much fun comparing notes.  I’ll dish more dirt if you ask, hehehehe…

I’m all up for weirdness. I appreciate other people’s uniqueness, and nuances. But this is too fucking weird for me. Like, Scientology weird kind of weird is what I mean.

Ever since she became the Dhenzian, my friend formerly known as Dennise started missing out on our gatherings. She would be too busy becoming Dhenzian too show up.

So why’d she show up in the Poj Faith Wedding Bonggang-Bonggang Extravaganza?

I suspect it has something to do with Faith asking her to be the commentator on the ceremony.

And she’s not even Catholic.

But, hey, anything for attention, eh?

Here are several videos made by my good friend, the Tibetan filmmaker Tenzin Tsetan.

To the Beach
Running Time: 2:25
Seokcho, South Korea

Shown here are the poet Sandra Roldan, Chef Tristan Bayani, author Carlos Malvar, world wanderer John Dewey, and filmmakers Kalinga Deshapriya and Tenzin Tsetan. Seokcho is located on the East Coast of the Korean peninsula. We went there twice, and although it’s not their best beach (I heard Jeju is breathtaking), Seokcho has a laid-back atmosphere that lets tourists not care for the world for a while. It’s a great place to go for a quick retreat with a couple of friends and a budget for beer.

When they say the seafood is fresh, trust us, it’s FRESH. Where other places have menus printed, in Seokcho, large aquariums filled with constantly running water IS the menu. You point at the sea creature you want to eat (we had some sort of penis looking, orange suckler and some flat fish that looked like they could swallow my eyeball whole), and the ajuma (old lady, synonymous to how Filipinos use “manang”) would chop it and serve it on a plate for your consumption. This is dinner, Seokcho style. It’s like sushi, except more hardcore.

Chopped raw fish is usually served with leaves you can wrap the pieces with. Bean sprouts optional. It’s also served with an array of sauces that one can dip the cold, tender fish bits in to season it for taste.

Below is short clip I took:

This is best taken with soju, the Korean vodka. The strong alcohol content of soju washes the fishy aftertaste down your throat, and lets you take another bite at the still breathing sea creature on your plate.

We go to the game
Running Time: 2:34

Here, the Crimson House gang goes to watch the soccer match between Korea and Togo.

After school, we all hurried home to alter our fan shirts because you ain’t cool if your shirt aint altered. So, I cut-off my shirt’s sleeves, and bought myself a pair of velvet red horns. Everyone else went for the flashing lights horns, but I was going for class. Hey, I may be watching a soccer game while drinking beer and munching on dried squids, but I want my horns to be velvety smooth.

Here’s the video I made:

Click here to read my old entry about the game.

Sports Day
Running time: 4:07

Once, we had an event in Korea University where they made us learn the Korean soccer dance, and engage in various “sports” just to deal more damage to our self-esteem. The “sports” mentioned involve rolling a humongous inflatable ball across the soccer field faster than the other team, jumping over a rolling log (seriously!), and running around wearing flippers.

I taught the Vietnamese journalist how to show some team spirit. “Reds, go pack yourselves!” By way of explanation, I told him “pack” is the idiom for packing one’s things in a bag, and going home. He bought it. I shall burn in hell for a couple of weeks for this sin, I suppose, but there’s nothing more entertaining than making fun of other people.

Shown here in the video are journalists from Mongolia and Vietnam. I heard they’re pretty big names in their countries. For Chef Tristan, who had to sit beside one of them every day for months, they’re the people who smell like balawis- a mythical creature who kidnaps kids in the middle of the night, and feeds on their viscera.

“He’s a hipon,” my friend Sandra said, describing one of the Mongolians. A tall guy who wore the same shirt to school everyday. Well, except that time when he came in a suit.

In my ignorance, I asked her: “A hipon?”

“Yes. Take away his head and you can enjoy his body.”

“Oh,” I said, glad of this new idiom. “I thought you meant he’s itchy on the throat.”

This is an old video. I made this back when I was in Seoul, South Korea as a writer-in-residence of the Literature Translation Institute, Korea. With me in the video is poet Sandra Roldan (http://sairo-in-a-skirt.blogspot.com) who was also with me in the program.

I’m thinking of going out of the country again. Perhaps for just a month.

And, yes, I have my eyes on you, UK.

WALA LANG.

O ha.

Opening sentence pa lang, alam mo nang wala kang mapapalang maganda sa pagbabasa ng entry na ito. Hahaha… Caveat then: kung ang hanap mo ay isang blog na maiimpluwensyahan ang buhay mo, then etong mga most influential emerging bloggers na lang ang basahin mo at magpaimpluwensya ka sa kanila.

Ako, hindi ako blogger. I’m an author who keeps a blog. Parang si Dane Cook, John Mayer, at iba pang celebs na may blogs. Kumbaga, hindi ako chef… masarap lang talaga ako magluto.

Which is why in that spirit, I’m posting tonight about the uneventful day I had. I’m writing it for myself, just to keep tabs, you know, like one of those days when you’re bored and you decide to browse through your old, handwritten diary. But I’m sharing it here for you guys.

Anyway,

Today, speaking of getting bored and scanning through old journals, I took my copy of the journal which the Literature Translation Institute of Korea published collecting all of our residency essays and articles, and I was browsing through it when this phrase caught my eye:

“Maraming Salamat, at Mabuhay Kayo, Mga Kaibigang Koreano!”

And since there were only the two of us in the program from the Philippines, I thought it was from something which Sandra Roldan has written. To my surprise, that line actually came from one of my essays. I reviewed the essay, and was struck by a particular passage which I will recall now:

(On Koreans’ dedication to learn the language)

My dowoomi has a workbook for learning English. It came from the English language school she goes to, the one that sends students to “English villages” where they can experience an entire day immersed in the language. In the Philippines, we call them “call centers”, but I didn’t tell her that. I’m leaving her the surprise of finding how rich the English language can be when the speaker is an irate middle-class, overweight comic book collector whose credit card was rejected by the Live on Cam website he frequents.

Back to the workbook: It looked standard enough, with big, proud letters saying “English is Fun!” on the cover, and by way of an explanation, “A Workbook for English” subtitled this proclamation.

And, oh, the cover was an ensemble shot of Desperate Housewives.

How awesome is that?

The exercises certainly lived to the cover’s promise. Each session, students were made to watch an episode of either Desperate Housewives or Friends—in English, and with no subtitles. After which, they would be made to fill up a copy of the episode’s script, with phrases missing for the students to complete. Relying on their English listening skills and her memory, my dowoomi (study buddy) had to fill up such fun dialogues as:

SUSAN: You…You… You step away from my _______, you filthy, filthy _______!

EDIE:I don’t want to do anything with a ______, Susan. Perhaps that plumber of yours should clean more than your pipes, if you _____ what I mean.

As a fan of these tv shows, I was severely tempted to ruin my dowoomi’s education by filling up her workbook with Madlibs:

BREE: Andrew, would you please pass the REEF.

or:

GABRIELLE: Carlos! You know how much I love my FREE LOADING RELATIVES.

But I didn’t. My dowoomi was a nice girl, and we were having frozen yoghurt topped with berries. She was also making plans of helping me buy an electronic English-Korean dictionary to help me with my studies. I told her I’m looking for one that speaks to help me learn the proper pronunciation. I didn’t tell her I’m planning on making it say “PUKI MO BAHO” over the phone to my friend Bernard who would certainly appreciate the joke.

—–

Reading what I have written 2 years ago made me realize that I have been wasting my time. I have so many stories to tell, so many memories to write about, but I’m not doing anything about it. It really bothered me today, the feeling of wasting one’s own potential.

Anyway, moving on with my “day in the life of” entry:

Usually, before i take a bath, I would force myself to take a dump. I enjoy moving my bowels in the comfort of my own room, thank you very much. i don’t want to do the number two on the office’s facilities, for very provincial reasons. So, while waiting for that relief to come, I play games on my PSP while on the throne.

Now, you’d think that by working in a gaming company, I would have too much of games to actually be playing one at home.

NOT EFFING TRUE.

It’s like working for a magazine. You still end up reading books, right? There’s work, and then there’s play, even when your work involve playing.

My game of the moment is called Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII. So far, it’s an amazing new direction for the franchise that spawned over a dozen installments and spin-offs. Final Fantasy is the bestselling multiplatform rpg title responsible for one of the office’s area representative calling his daughter “Rinoa”. Crisis Core is very engaging, and it’s stunningly rendered. I recommend it for anyone who has a PSP.

———-

Instead of taking my PSP with me to play while in transit, I decided to bring with me a book instead. I bought an anthology on ‘dangerous women’, edited by Otto Penzler. It has short stories of notable writers in the genre of crime and suspense, even one from Joyce Carol Oates!

———-

Hmm… what else?

———

Oh, yeah. I saw a middle aged woman reading R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps series for kids on the Metro Rail. It looked weird. Like a grown man of 40 watching Gossip Girl alone.

————

I had lunch with a book today at the nearby Pizza Hut. My teammates were gone to buy something, and Randelll went to get something from someone somewhere in Ortigas. Pizza Hut is nice, really efficient, and thoughtful. So, I took ‘Dangerous Women’ to lunch, which was nice.

——

Blah blah blah work work blah blah

——–

ON the way home, the bus I boarded was playing WAVE. At some point, the BoyzIIMen version of Hard to Say I’m Sorry was played on the radio.

And soon, everybody was singing along.

Not just singing along… harmonizing .

It felt funny and nice at the same time. I was tempted to go Pop - Pop - Pop - Pop. Some people were obviously just showing off with their curling high notes.

—

And speaking of sing-along, I uploaded a sing-aliong blog video on to my Ipod. That one I saw I converted and then sent to my iPod, …

–

Soooo fucking sleepy.

——-

good night bitches.

This is my character in Dekaron. He’s a smokin’ hot smexy as a beast Vicious Summoner. No, seriously. The class is called “Vicious Summoner”, and one of his skill groups is called “Libido”. So, in fact, when I say I’m working on my Summoner’s Libido, I meant in a totally geeky way.

Also, Vicious Summoner is one sexy beast, as you can see. Oh, he summons beasts too. Which should by now answer any questions you may have about his name.

My Vicious Summoner is called “Extasiege”. No, surprise there.

For more information, please visit the website @ http://dekaron.mobiusgames.net

I was walking home late last night, and there was a thin mist hanging over our village. One could see the flight of moths when staring up at lamplights. The mist wasn’t heavy enough to obscure the view of objects at a distance, but it was there, present, clinging, giving everything an ethereal glow.

Along our street, somebody’s car had all its windows fogged up.

So I went to it and wrote:

“I Know What You Did Last Summer.”

Nobody saw me, and I giggled inside, drunk on my “cleverness”. Confident with my newly found deftness at leaving nifty little threats to the neighborhood, I went to the next fogged up vehicle–a van, this time–and wrote:

“I’m Back, Motherfucker!!!”

The next one got:

“Why So Serious?”

But I was quickly running out of fogged cars, and I was near our place, so I never had the opportunity to scrawl this on someone’s car in the middle of the night:

“Git Lost, Faggots! God hates y’all sodomites an’ such!”

Dekaron Now on Closed Beta Testing for the Philippines, Malaysia, and Singapore

The wait is now over.

Dekaron Southeast Asia (Dekaron SEA) is now on Closed Beta Testing (CBT), mobiusgames proudly announced. Gamers from the Philippines, Singapore, and Malaysia can now play Dekaron SEA from August 12 to August 26, and finally experience for themselves what makes it an internationally bestselling MMORPG.

Gamers have been eagerly anticipating Dekaron SEA ever since mobiusgames announced its plans of bringing the “extreme action online game” to the Southeast Asia region. Developed by GameHI, Dekaron is popularly known throughout the world for its visually stunning graphics and savagely exciting gameplay.

Due to insistent demand, mobiusgames started accepting registrations for CBT accounts beginning July 23. mobiusgames added several thousand CBT accounts more to their allocated number of slots due to the overwhelming response from gamers. CBT accounts are free, and gamers are encouraged to register for accounts ASAP as their availability is running low.

For weeks, mobiusgames has been besieged with excited players eagerly anticipating Dekaron. Their Games Support Services hotline was ringing off the hook with phoned in queries about the game’s date of release, specs, and even requests for CBT accounts. Even mobiusgames area representatives were not spared from the Dekaron mania-gamers and cafe owners would tend to get all animated whenever they’re in a shop, doing their rounds, asking all sorts of question about Dekaron.

A team from GameHi, the game’s developer, is currently in town in line for the occasion, and they are thrilled at the great reception that gamers are giving Dekaron.

While on CBT, Dekaron will have several events and promos running to give gamers an in-depth, intense immersion into the game. In the best interests of the gamers, rewards for the CBT events will be awarded during the Open Beta Testing period.

Set in the hauntingly brutal world of Trieste, Dekaron tells the struggle to destroy the evil brought upon by the corruption of Karon. Through 6 unique character classes, players can embark on a glorious adventure under threat of damnation, destruction, and ultimately, death.

Dekaron SEA is free. For more information, please visit the website @ http://dekaron.mobiusgames.net

Dekaron is hailed all over the world as the most violent gaming experience you can have online. It’s dubbed as the extreme action online game. Dekaron is free for the Southeast Asia region of the Philippines, Singapore, and Malaysia.

Dekaron will be on Closed Beta Testing from August 12 to August 26.

For more info, and events details, visit the website: http://dekaron.mobiusgames.net

Is it just me or do other people also find it personally insulting when local corporations try to pull off something this blatantly stupid?

As I’ve said before, I am of the opinion that what people mistake as Filipino Pride is actually nothing more than Pinoy Shamelessness.[1]

I’m a regular patron of the 7-11 across the street from our building. 7-11 is as reliable as an unemployed fuck buddy, and equally as cheap affordable. So, I was there when Vitwater first came out, and I was flabbergasted at the blatantness of it.

VITWATER is a VULGAR COPYCAT of Vitawater. [2]

They even RUINED THE AMAZING COPY THAT MADE VITAWATER UNFORGETTABLE.

I’ve been wanting to blog about the amazing copy in every bottle of VITAWATER (the original). They’re witty, fresh, and full of irony.

VITWATER copywriters TRIED SO HARD TO COPY THE SAME SPIRIT, AND FAILED FAILED FAILED. FUCK! SHIT!

Maybe you don’t have any respect for goods as the evil by-product of capitalism, but goddammit, leave WORDS alone!

BTW, I got the “Proudly Pinoy” Logo :: from here ::

So what do you think, guys?

Hello! My teammates from the Creatives-Marketing team have this thing for vlogging, so here’s one of our daily vlogs. Shown here are Lois and Gen Lim. Basically, this is a vlog about nothing for people who are doing nothing. We did this after office hours, so we’re actually NOT WASTING any office hours here.

Regular readers of my blog may have noticed the prominently displayed banner on the left side bar announcing the wedding of my good friends Poj and Faith.

Well, last Friday, on the fateful date of 08-08-08, Poj Parunganan and Faith Bernardo got married in a ceremony that rivaled the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics.

Here’s a video:

And that’s just the bride’s entrance!

The wedding was held at the famous Las Pinas Bamboo Organ Church. It’s right beside St. Joseph’s Academy, a school. Here are my friends Caz and Angela setting a good example to school children in front of a church:

Here’s a nice group photo of the gang. Click on the image for a larger view, pls.

And to show Faith and Poj their support, Micky and Flery are joining the couple on their honeymoon in Singapore. For real, bitches. That’s how tight our group is. You think we’d consider their privacy and leave these two lovebirds alone on their honeymoon? Think again. The plane seats were on sale because they booked them ages ago. Of course, why should Micky and Flery let the couple’s honeymoon get in the way of their own happiness, eh?

I don’t fancy myself a blogger. I’m a writer who keeps a blog. Much like a chef, a stripper, or a nuclear physicist who keeps a blog doesn’t have his identity summed up as ‘a blogger’, I’d like to think of myself as more than the blogs I keep. I’m pretty generous when it comes to sharing my ideas and insights to the world, and I don’t think I should be held responsible for the improvement of everyone else’s information.

I used to hate Twitter. Now, I don’t. But I’m not signing up for an account, either. I still maintain the view that Twittering is self-indulgent, unnecessary, and totally lacks any grace. But I know appreciate the social aspect of it. If you’re a writer who respects the art and craft of writing, then I suggest you stay the fuck away from Twitter. Don’t waste your writing muscles on occasional outbursts of “yey! got my mocha frap 4 free 2day, thnx Bud!” or “lady boss izz such a bitch 2day, yes? i can has loaded shotgun nao?” and “moar comiz puhliz?”. Get a goddamn notebook, kid, and learn how to work with a pencil. The pencil is the most underrated implement in history. It’s basically the best handheld device that can encode your thoughts and creativity for you. Your pencil runs on a processor that’s relative to the speed of your thought.

If you don’t see yourself embracing the insanity of the craft of writing, then I suppose Twitter’s fine. You get to tell everyone how wonderful your new shoes are, or how much you are looking forward to going to the gym. Fine. You don’t hurt anyone when you believe that the world is interested in getting your hourly updates. That’s perfectly fine. Homeless people have murmured their ramblings to various trees, lampposts, and imaginary dead kids for centuries, and they don’t seem to be a threat to the general public–until they start stabbing people for no reason.

Also, avoid writing in LOLspeak. It’s retarded. You don’t get any cuter because you are assuming the language of kittens, just like you don’t get any street cred simply because you refer to your brown-assed friends as ‘niggahs’.

If you are serious about your craft, blogging is useful activity you should consider engaging in for the following reasons:

Practice. The key to good writing is that you should READ, READ, READ and WRITE, WRITE, WRITE. Blogging keeps your pen sharp, ONLY IF YOU DON’T RESORT TO WRITING IN LOLSPEAK and Twittering.

Note keeping. There’s a lot of websites offering free blog hosting. Exploit this. Create a blog simply for keeping notes. In the future, you’ll look back on your past entries and find an idea, or a concept, which you will rework into one of your greatest hits.

Portable archive. There were times before when I was challenged to join a performance line-up on the fly. Unfortunately, I don’t step out of the house everyday with a performance ready in my head. Having learned from past experiences, I would now type some of my best works and post them privately in my blogs. This way, wherever I am, I can always log on to my blog, print out a copy of a poem from my archived works, and spend the next quarter of an hour tweaking the poem before spending another hour getting ready for the performance.

While some blogs may teach you how to make money online, I’m more concerned about making the rest of the world richer in some other sense. I dream of influencing just enough people to turn the cyberspace into a venue of creativity, and ideas. I may be crazy, but I’m still hoping that behind all the get-rich-quick scheme that people are espousing about blogging, there’s still some integrity left in what was once a promising platform for the open sharing of insights, ideas, and eloquent interaction.

A scene from the office. Gen brought her webcam with her today, so we made idiots out ourselves with random photos, and videos. We mistook an indention in her cam for a microphone, and ended up with moving pictures with no sound. It’s like watching yourself on CCTV, and you wonder what have you lifted from the store lately.

Anyway, look! me looks pretty one day.

Shit!

Fuck!

These are the colorful words that succinctly capture the flavor of Chowking Soup for the Soul, a very unfortunate program of narrated “inspirational stories” that they force upon the unsuspecting passengers of the Metro Rail.

I have been cursed by the gods for lying about my age too much, and I paid for it by being made to listen to Chowking Soup for the Soul twice in a week. Shit! Fuck! I swear I will never, ever, ever eat in any Chowking ever again until they stop airing it.

Chowking Soup for the Soul (from Wikipedia.org) is the literary equivalent of buttsecks with a dead pedophile. It ranks gayer than the Annual Gay Pride March in the Alexa.com standardized ranking system for faggotry. If Siddharta “Budda Call” Gautama were emo, he would have written Chowking Soup for the Soul on his walls with his own blood.

Apparently, I’m the only person who cares enough to blog about Chowking Soup for the Soul–which is why whenever the schlomoes who came up with it Google their project, they eventually end up here.

Chowking Soup for the Soul is the most annoying thing ever, next to the pregnant man on Oprah and moymoy palaboy singing the Tagalog version of Rihanna’s Umbrella. In between stations of the MRT, a homosexual voice talent narrates short stories that are supposed to be inspirational, but fall generally under the category of Retarded Fiction.

I hate a lot of things in the world. For me to actually BLOG about something I hate means this particular object of my hate is exceptionally hateful. I’m looking at you, Chowking Soup for the Soul, or as I call it, On Board Motherfucker.

Chowking Soup for the Soul is Condensed Moral Condescension. The stories AREN’T LOGICAL OR INSPIRING. Basically, they’re CHEESY, SAPPY, SHORT STORIES THAT HAVE NO POINT EXCEPT TO MAKE THE NARRATOR SOUND PROFOUND. Here are some of the stories that have burned their way into my brain:

In the old days, people would tie a donkey and a wild stallion by their legs. The two animals would then be set free to roam in the wild. At first, the horse would try run free, but its bondage with the donkey would leave it no choice but to drag the slower, steadier animal with it.

Eventually, the two animals would come back down to the plains. This time, the donkey would be leading the horse.

The patient animal’s perseverance overcame the raging, untamed nature of the horse. Like so in life, it’s the people who know the virtue of patience who will triumph over those who don’t.

SERIOUSLY, if a kid takes that seriously into himself, that kid would be fucked up for life! According to the “wisdom” of Chowking Soup for the Soul, we must all let stubborn people have their way and shun the passions burning inside us. Shit! Fuck! Well, people who don’t let their creativity run unbridled end up writing Chowking Soup for the Soul, so whaddaya expect?

The lesson here should be: if we let stubborn donkeys have their ways, the power, and the passion that God gave us to change the world will be wasted. We’ll be slow moving, hard-headed ASSES.

One day, a father punched his daughter for using gold tinsel to wrap a present. Money was hard, and they were trying to save.

“Why are you wasting money?” the father asked.

“Can’t you see, daddy, I wrapped this for you!” the daughter said, handing him the box.

When the father opened the present, he found that it was empty. So he scolded the little girl once again. “Don’t you know that when you give someone a present, there should be something in it?”

“But, daddy! I blew kisses into it! It’s filled with my love!”

Not long after, the little girl got into an accident, and she died.

After that, every night, the father would open the box, and take one imaginary kiss from it and put it on his lips.

THIS IS AN ACTUAL STORY FROM CHOWKING SOUP FOR THE SOUL. I DIDN’T MAKE UP ANY OF THIS. THIS IS ACTUALLY ONE OF THE STORIES THAT THEY ARE BROADCASTING. FUCK! SHIT!

First of all, let me say this about the father in the story: WHAT A DOUCHEBAG. He hits his little girl, and then, that son of a bitch actually EXPECTED something from the little girl. What, were you expecting a fucking iPod, asshole?

Also, what kind of poverty struck this family that they can’t spare A GIFT WRAPPER? Why do they even have a GOLD GIFT WRAPPER LYING AROUND? Were they saving it to wrap some ginormous DIAMONDS, perhaps?

I say, whatever you can wrap with that GOLD WRAPPER must cost MORE THAN THAT FUCKING WRAPPER YOU SUCKERPUNCHED YOUR DAUGHTER FOR.

SHOULD THE LITTLE GIRL REALLY DIE IN THIS STORY? I think she’s in a much better place even if she was killed by a stingray in the public kiddie pool if being alive means living with a douchebag father who beats you for GOLD WRAPPER.

I shall continue documenting all CHOWKING SOUP FOR THE SOUL stories here so stay tuned. I will only stop once they pulled out their program on the Metro Rail.

FUCK! SHIT!

Wala lang. May mga natatanggap din naman akong fan mail kahit papaano, di ba. Hahaa… Isang taon na pala ang nakakalipas since sumali ako sa Pilipinas, Game KNB?, and sana, by now, not only do they remember me as a “game show contestant”, but more importantly, as an author.

So, random fan mail answering tayo bago ako umuwi.

more power… galingan moh pah!!! astig!!! sana mapenetrate k din sa tv.. db?.. heheheh..
-from Friendster.com

Hi. Maraming salamat. Pero masakit ata ang gusto mong mangyari. Sa TV mo pa ako gusto mapenetrate. Wag naman ganun.

hi stan… very nice nmn ang hair mo ngaun kaw ba yan tlaga stanley? naguusap pa ba kau ni louie?
-from Friendster.com

Hello rin. Hindi ako si Stanley. Thanks for complimenting my hair, though. Brother Louie-louie-louie?

good luck sa career!
and more power..
nd kili2 power!
hehehe
-from Friendster.com

Minsan, mamasa-masa ang kilikili ko, pero di naman ata ako naghihimutok. Yan ay dahil gumagamit ako ng Rexona for Men. Effective siya. Favorite ko ang Gillette na gel deodorant, pero dahil mamumulubi ako pag yun ang brand ko lagi, Rexona ako kadalasan. Pwede na rin.

::Click Here 2 Join my Fans Club Naman Dyan::

O, di ba, may fanbase din naman ako kahit papaano. Kahit karamihan sa kanila, nabigla isang araw na fans ko pala sila, hindi na sila kumontra. Hahaha…

Philippine politicians should take a cue from Budd Dwyer. In 1987, Budd Dwyer was sentenced for accepting kickback. The day before his sentencing, Budd Dwyer called for a press conference, and in front of a live audience, and broadcasting live on national television, Budd Dwyer put a gun in his mouth and shot himself.

::Click here to watch the very graphic video::

“Please leave this room if this will offend you,” he warned. People tried to stop him. Cries of “Don’t do it, Budd!”, and “Budd! Budd!” can be clearly heard on the video.

Budd Dwyer blew his brains out on live TV.

This is what our politicians should do.

Have some sense of shame.

Maybe asking them to put a gun in their mouths and end it all is hoping for too much.

But, dudes, have some shame!

Walk away. Live in the States, take forever to comeback. Run the fuck away with the people’s money for all we care. JUST. LEAVE. US. ALONE.

We’ve been screwed for too long, we’re getting callused. This is bad. We should never grow callused, but we already are. The “president” just gave us one of the most fictional S.O.N.A in the history of the republic, and we’re still waiting for 2010. We are blatantly being sodomized by both Houses, and by all three branches of government.

I think, what we mistake for “Pinoy Pride” is actually Filipino shamelessness.

Ask the attentionwhoring pregnant man on Oprah, or the oblivious Reynald Lapus.

Ask the Thriller-dancing Gloria sympathizers in that jail in Cebu.

Ask this ignorant group of kids who think supporting the latest in terrorist fashion is “scarfunky”. (::click here for total retardation::)

Ask everyone caught laughing on video while a canister is being pulled free from a poor schmuck’s asshole.

Ask Budd Dwyer.

Lately, I’ve been reading the works of Michael Connelly. Michael Connelly is the creator of Harry Bosch, the serial killer known as The Poet, and other memorable novels of crime and suspense.

I am a hardcore fan of the hardboiled, but, surprisingly, Michael Connelly is more procedural than noir. He treads gracefully between grim, gritty, gut punches and complex epiphanies. His strength, I think, is that he is mediumboiled for a reason: his writing is human, and has sophistications and complexities that are rarely found in the genre. He is easy to read, but hard to forget. No wonder Stephen King enjoys him! Michael Connelly’s smooth of flow masks his sense of urgency so cleverly that one doesn’t realize he has been holding his breath for several chapters until black spots start swimming by the edges of his reading vision.

I highly recommend Michael Connelly for people who want to start reading detective/crime fiction but are afraid to ‘not get it’. Michael Connelly is like CSI without the cheesy musical interludes.

I went downstairs for a break. I’m clocking out late tonight. Downstairs, it was cold like Seoul in springtime, and my hand went to pop collars that weren’t there. I had a light trench coat back in Seoul.

I kinda enjoyed working late better than working early. People are generally more quiet in the evenings. They let you mind your biz if you let them mind theirs.

The best thing about being a writer is that you can put your imagination in between you and the world as other people know it. In my head I’m not chained to a desk in a tower. I am writing at home, and I’m alone in my apartment, and there’s a deadline I’m rushing to beat because there’s the rent to think about, and I’m not drinking cold sports drink with chocolate donuts, instead, I’m eating pizza, and there’s some jazz playing in the background, and there are mysteries to be solved on the floor above.

note: delete this as soon as you post a more decent entry. my stand against twitter remains.

chowking soup for the soul + metro rail transit = mebbe kewl parody indawerks. must discuss with sis. thinking along ‘poisoned soup for the soul’ = stephen king + purpose driven life.  hey, drunk driven life. sounds like trainwreck + inspiration = epic win? must think more.

Ok, so there was a promo girl handing out free Cleenex earlier this morning at the Ayala Stn of the Metro Rail. Apparently, Cleenex just came out with a new product: facial wipes loaded with aloe vera and Vitamin E for your skin’s wellness.

I took a sheet, and asked the promo girl, “What’s this for?”

To which she answered, “For FREE, sir,” flashing me her smile. “For FREE,” she repeated.

Di na ako umangal.

Ang post na ito ay walang kinalaman sa pagtoma. Wala lang. Trip ko lang ang title.

Atsaka, well, one of the characteristics of my humor is my skill in using malapropisms effectively. Ang malapropism ay:

is the substitution of one word for another incorrect word with a similar sound, usually to comic effect. (Wikipedia.org)

For example, (courtesy of Randell), “Arright, guys. That’s it. Let’s call it tonight.” Parang one round of “the goat is sinking” lang tsaka “if there’s a will, there’s a car.”

So, anyway, I was reading the profiles of a certain creative team involved in unifying the world dahil apparently, magbabati-bati na ang mga Muslim at mga Kristiyano, mga Israeli at mga Palistino, at ang mga fans ni Marianne at mga fans ni Angel, dahil cute ang mga headshots nila, di ko alam kung pano logically pwede yun, pero ganon raw talaga, so hayaan na natin. Anyway, natutuwa lang ako kasi isa sa kanila ay tinatawag na “The Trojan Horse of the Advertising Industry”, which for some reason ay hindi mawala-wala sa aking consciousness. I wasn’t able to immediately tell what’s wrong with the title, until much later when I finally realized what they mean.

So, ok, eto ang challenge ko sa inyo, mga readers. Ano sa palagay nyo ang appropriate na title kung mali ang “the trojan horse of the advertising industry”? Post your answers as comments here. Thanks!

*edited* Ang tamang sagot ay “dark horse”. Paano ginagamit ang “dark horse” bilang idiomatic expression? I-wiki nyo.