i have to say this:
wooohooo!!!! 2005 - fuck you!!! hahaha.... that's the best i can do to welcome the year i guess.
i'm out. and so is 2004. conitinue reading this blogsite, please, i beg you... mommy... i don't want to be alone mommy... please don't turn off the lights... i hear voices coming out of my closet... mommy... why wouldn't they want to read my blog? why? have i been a bad boy? i beg you... come back... please... hahaha...
after years of nicotine- and caffaine-filled mornings, i'm finally losing it. ciao!
12.31.2004
twenty-o-four
so this is it. merely hours away from 2005. thank goodness!!! i can't barely wait for this year to end.
having said that, 2004, however, is arguably the best year of my life. why? a lot of "firsts" transpired in what i would like to call "the most tumultous rollercoaster ride" i've ever been in in my 25 years of existence (that, coming from a guy who never even rode a rollercoaster). so what happened to me this 2004... hm, lemme give you a run down (in no particular order):
:: the first time i dropped out from a subject in school. the subject was knowledge management, an elective that carried with it a three-unit credit in a 36-unit program i'm currently finishing. i felt really sick after i filled-out the "dropping slip." i spoke to my adviser about it and i promised that next semester i'd be working extra hard to make up for it.
:: that same semester, it was also my first time not to complete (finish) a subject (financial management). our finance subject was really hard (damn hard i tell you) but i enjoyed every minute in class. unfortunately, because of work loads and conflicting schedules, i wasn't able to submit (comply) with my final paper. it was a miracle i even lasted until the end of the semester and managed to complete the final exams for that subject even without the benefit of a review (not to mention missing out on two meetings before the finals). i spoke with my professor on that subject, and she said "sayang" (read as: "tsk tsk tsk" in english) because i got the highest score on the final exams... but she just couldn't give me the grade and the credit because of my final paper. dang!
:: the following semester, after promising to myself (and to my professors) that i'd work extra hard, i took a leave of absence from school.. what a bummer. why? work and personal reasons that's why. i felt like i was spreading myself too thin on various commitments and activities on work... whoa!!! me? spreading myself too "thin?" that's certainly a first hahahaha!!!!
:: the first time i was in a delivery room and actually see a baby being delivered... right in front of me. my wife did a great job on giving birth to our second baby, alex. but the tension and the suspense and the drama in that room... i swear... i thought i couldn't take it. i thought i'd pass out (espcially after seeing blood) and find myself inside the i.c.u. four hours after because i just had a minor stroke or something. anyway, it was a very... well... i couldn't explain it, but it felt great!!!
:: the first time i felt i travelled too much that the mere sight of a plane, bus, car, van, or ship really made me sick!!!
:: the first time to play 20 questions with someone without the aid of alcohol. enough said.
:: the first time i was travelling on my birthday, and no party (or beer-drinking contest) was held in my honor. damn it!
:: the first time i had to pick a coffin for a dead relative.
:: the first time i had to deliver a eulogy inside a church.
:: the first time my picture landed in major broadsheet dailies because i had to sign a memorandum of agreement in behalf of our company (that was such a thrill hehehe).
:: the first time i picked up a guitar in four years to play a song i played about.. well.. four years ago.
:: the first time to write a poem in nearly three-and-a-half years.
:: the first time to get my feet wet in an agricultural business.
:: the first time in eight years that i got really tired of life.
:: the first time i realized that life was also sick and tired of my whining and complaining.
:: the first time i took a step back and tried to evaluate where i am. kind of a "from the outside looking in" evaluation. and i tried to put things in their proper perspective too.
well, that was that... my twenty-o-four in a nutshell. well, it was one hell of a rollercoaster ride. and yes, it was the best year of my life. i wonder how next year would be. who cares? i say bring it on!!!
i'm out.
having said that, 2004, however, is arguably the best year of my life. why? a lot of "firsts" transpired in what i would like to call "the most tumultous rollercoaster ride" i've ever been in in my 25 years of existence (that, coming from a guy who never even rode a rollercoaster). so what happened to me this 2004... hm, lemme give you a run down (in no particular order):
:: the first time i dropped out from a subject in school. the subject was knowledge management, an elective that carried with it a three-unit credit in a 36-unit program i'm currently finishing. i felt really sick after i filled-out the "dropping slip." i spoke to my adviser about it and i promised that next semester i'd be working extra hard to make up for it.
:: that same semester, it was also my first time not to complete (finish) a subject (financial management). our finance subject was really hard (damn hard i tell you) but i enjoyed every minute in class. unfortunately, because of work loads and conflicting schedules, i wasn't able to submit (comply) with my final paper. it was a miracle i even lasted until the end of the semester and managed to complete the final exams for that subject even without the benefit of a review (not to mention missing out on two meetings before the finals). i spoke with my professor on that subject, and she said "sayang" (read as: "tsk tsk tsk" in english) because i got the highest score on the final exams... but she just couldn't give me the grade and the credit because of my final paper. dang!
:: the following semester, after promising to myself (and to my professors) that i'd work extra hard, i took a leave of absence from school.. what a bummer. why? work and personal reasons that's why. i felt like i was spreading myself too thin on various commitments and activities on work... whoa!!! me? spreading myself too "thin?" that's certainly a first hahahaha!!!!
:: the first time i was in a delivery room and actually see a baby being delivered... right in front of me. my wife did a great job on giving birth to our second baby, alex. but the tension and the suspense and the drama in that room... i swear... i thought i couldn't take it. i thought i'd pass out (espcially after seeing blood) and find myself inside the i.c.u. four hours after because i just had a minor stroke or something. anyway, it was a very... well... i couldn't explain it, but it felt great!!!
:: the first time i felt i travelled too much that the mere sight of a plane, bus, car, van, or ship really made me sick!!!
:: the first time to play 20 questions with someone without the aid of alcohol. enough said.
:: the first time i was travelling on my birthday, and no party (or beer-drinking contest) was held in my honor. damn it!
:: the first time i had to pick a coffin for a dead relative.
:: the first time i had to deliver a eulogy inside a church.
:: the first time my picture landed in major broadsheet dailies because i had to sign a memorandum of agreement in behalf of our company (that was such a thrill hehehe).
:: the first time i picked up a guitar in four years to play a song i played about.. well.. four years ago.
:: the first time to write a poem in nearly three-and-a-half years.
:: the first time to get my feet wet in an agricultural business.
:: the first time in eight years that i got really tired of life.
:: the first time i realized that life was also sick and tired of my whining and complaining.
:: the first time i took a step back and tried to evaluate where i am. kind of a "from the outside looking in" evaluation. and i tried to put things in their proper perspective too.
well, that was that... my twenty-o-four in a nutshell. well, it was one hell of a rollercoaster ride. and yes, it was the best year of my life. i wonder how next year would be. who cares? i say bring it on!!!
i'm out.
12.30.2004
heaven
what do i think about heaven?
i think heaven is one big hip café. yep. that's about it i guess.
i'm out.
i think heaven is one big hip café. yep. that's about it i guess.
i'm out.
hm..
lemme see...
december 24:
as usual, christmas was uneventful. because i refuse to submit to it's festivities. but still i tried to make it as fun and as memorable as possible for my wife and kids. after noche buena, me and my cousins spent the next two or three hours pestering our neighbors with karaoke renditions of songs from the carpenters and the beattles. that pretty much destroyed a lot of families' christmas reunions hahaha in our little baranggay.
december 25:
slept at around 5:oo am... then woke up at around 8:00. i really do have a sleeping disorder. battling a minor hangover, i got up and had a light breakfast (read as: just coffee and cigarettes). invited hoseal for lunch. he came at around 2:30 in the afternoon. had a quick lunch. went out bowling. we went into this old bowling alley where koreans (localized koreans if i may say so) frequent. we were bowling next to a group of koreans where one of 'em was wearing a very short skirt and stilletos... and for the life of me, i couldn't understand how she keeps hitting strikes and spares with that kind of get-up. oh well... hoseal and i had to slap each other's cheeks silly just to focus on our game. we played eight straight sets.. then our arms were sore. we bailed out. had some pizza by 5:00 pm. had coffee by 8:00 pm. and were drinking beer with ruel by 8:30. some schedule eh?
december 26:
nothing special happened really. except my wife surprised me with her gift... an acoustic guitar!!! whoa!!! now all i got to do is learn to play the guitar again after four years of inactivity. now if i could only remember how to make GM7 in the pentatonic scale.. hm...
december 27:
had beer with hoseal, marvin (congratulations on the new baby man!!!), sev, jhunie, arvin, m3, and the rest of the gang. oh by the way, kaloi (henry, in real life) paid us a surprise visit over at gerry's grill. the dude's now based in legazpi city in bicol. that's a long way from home man.. a long way.
december 28:
i got a kick from knowing that this blogsite's counter registered the 1,000-hit mark. i still can't get over it. i'm still dancing under the moon and stars for pete's sake! by the way, i saw jaysie at the mall. had coffee with him while chewin' the fat. and accompanied him to buy new batteries for his cellphone. technology's such a bitch i tell you!!!
december 29:
ah yes. billiards, beer, and pizza with my most favorite artist, olie. the dude showed up in a yellow shirt and a cowboy hat. i tell you, this guy's fashion sense is really... well... i don't know how to describe it really. we were later on joined by pepe and rex. we feasted on fifteen bottles of strong ice and a "bilao" of grilled seafood and pig.. that'll surely calm the nerves eh?
december 30:
which pretty much brings us up- to-date to the so-called life of israel. nothing much happenin' today. just preparations for the up and coming party over at my place to welcome 2005. january 1 will be a celebration of friendship, thanksgiving, and ofcourse... BEER, BEER, and BEER!!!
i'm out.
december 24:
as usual, christmas was uneventful. because i refuse to submit to it's festivities. but still i tried to make it as fun and as memorable as possible for my wife and kids. after noche buena, me and my cousins spent the next two or three hours pestering our neighbors with karaoke renditions of songs from the carpenters and the beattles. that pretty much destroyed a lot of families' christmas reunions hahaha in our little baranggay.
december 25:
slept at around 5:oo am... then woke up at around 8:00. i really do have a sleeping disorder. battling a minor hangover, i got up and had a light breakfast (read as: just coffee and cigarettes). invited hoseal for lunch. he came at around 2:30 in the afternoon. had a quick lunch. went out bowling. we went into this old bowling alley where koreans (localized koreans if i may say so) frequent. we were bowling next to a group of koreans where one of 'em was wearing a very short skirt and stilletos... and for the life of me, i couldn't understand how she keeps hitting strikes and spares with that kind of get-up. oh well... hoseal and i had to slap each other's cheeks silly just to focus on our game. we played eight straight sets.. then our arms were sore. we bailed out. had some pizza by 5:00 pm. had coffee by 8:00 pm. and were drinking beer with ruel by 8:30. some schedule eh?
december 26:
nothing special happened really. except my wife surprised me with her gift... an acoustic guitar!!! whoa!!! now all i got to do is learn to play the guitar again after four years of inactivity. now if i could only remember how to make GM7 in the pentatonic scale.. hm...
december 27:
had beer with hoseal, marvin (congratulations on the new baby man!!!), sev, jhunie, arvin, m3, and the rest of the gang. oh by the way, kaloi (henry, in real life) paid us a surprise visit over at gerry's grill. the dude's now based in legazpi city in bicol. that's a long way from home man.. a long way.
december 28:
i got a kick from knowing that this blogsite's counter registered the 1,000-hit mark. i still can't get over it. i'm still dancing under the moon and stars for pete's sake! by the way, i saw jaysie at the mall. had coffee with him while chewin' the fat. and accompanied him to buy new batteries for his cellphone. technology's such a bitch i tell you!!!
december 29:
ah yes. billiards, beer, and pizza with my most favorite artist, olie. the dude showed up in a yellow shirt and a cowboy hat. i tell you, this guy's fashion sense is really... well... i don't know how to describe it really. we were later on joined by pepe and rex. we feasted on fifteen bottles of strong ice and a "bilao" of grilled seafood and pig.. that'll surely calm the nerves eh?
december 30:
which pretty much brings us up- to-date to the so-called life of israel. nothing much happenin' today. just preparations for the up and coming party over at my place to welcome 2005. january 1 will be a celebration of friendship, thanksgiving, and ofcourse... BEER, BEER, and BEER!!!
i'm out.
12.29.2004
i'm with olie!
yep. he's sitting right next to me. wearing a cowboy hat. he looks like jun aristorenas. brood on that for a while yah fuckers!!!
i'm out.
i'm out.
12.28.2004
smoke
i inhale you
in my chest
i feel you
you occupy
every available
space there is
i hold my breath
as time stands still
i try not to let go
i do not want to let go
i want to savor every
square inch of your taste
then i imagine the color
and the shape
of my infected air sacs
but then i know
i must exhale
for i cannot keep you forever
in my chest
in my lungs
in my system
but i do want to taste you again
so i light another stick
for good measure
and agree to your offer
to hold my breath
for as long as i can
until it is time to exorcise
the smoke of your ghost
from my black cancer soul
in my chest
i feel you
you occupy
every available
space there is
i hold my breath
as time stands still
i try not to let go
i do not want to let go
i want to savor every
square inch of your taste
then i imagine the color
and the shape
of my infected air sacs
but then i know
i must exhale
for i cannot keep you forever
in my chest
in my lungs
in my system
but i do want to taste you again
so i light another stick
for good measure
and agree to your offer
to hold my breath
for as long as i can
until it is time to exorcise
the smoke of your ghost
from my black cancer soul
i just remembered
today's the 28th right? which means yesterday was the last day of our stupid blog game.
last december 15, i asked everyone to complete the phrase:
paningit.blogspot.com sucks because...
lo and behold! only one of the many readers of this pathetic blogsite managed to come up with something. that someone, however, didn't have either the balls or the presence of mind to leave his / her contact details. now how am i suppose to give his shirt then eh?
to mr/ms anonymous, who ever you are... i urge you to email me at ijdbuenaobra@gmail.com to claim your prize. i'm giving you until january 1 for this... or else the shirt goes to some charitable institution in somewhere in calcuta, inda. hm... that'll make mother theresa happy.
again, i ask everyone to please believe me when i say that my blog games are for fuckin' real. i told you before didn't i? i have to protect whatever reputation and decency there is left in this blogsite. and please, next time, have the fuckin' balls to join... yah turd!
i'm out.
last december 15, i asked everyone to complete the phrase:
paningit.blogspot.com sucks because...
lo and behold! only one of the many readers of this pathetic blogsite managed to come up with something. that someone, however, didn't have either the balls or the presence of mind to leave his / her contact details. now how am i suppose to give his shirt then eh?
to mr/ms anonymous, who ever you are... i urge you to email me at ijdbuenaobra@gmail.com to claim your prize. i'm giving you until january 1 for this... or else the shirt goes to some charitable institution in somewhere in calcuta, inda. hm... that'll make mother theresa happy.
again, i ask everyone to please believe me when i say that my blog games are for fuckin' real. i told you before didn't i? i have to protect whatever reputation and decency there is left in this blogsite. and please, next time, have the fuckin' balls to join... yah turd!
i'm out.
alright!
one thousand!!! a grand!!! isang libo!!!
ain't it nice? before the year ended, paningit hit the 1,000 mark on this day, december 28.
big props to every soul who managed to find their way to this blog and somehow read it. hahaha!!! i know a lot of you guys dropped by out of pity, but i'm gonna take it as a compliment anyway.
again, thank you very much everyone and i hope you enjoy the ride for as long as there's enough gas.
as usual, i'm not going to dwell on this that much so... i'm out.
ain't it nice? before the year ended, paningit hit the 1,000 mark on this day, december 28.
big props to every soul who managed to find their way to this blog and somehow read it. hahaha!!! i know a lot of you guys dropped by out of pity, but i'm gonna take it as a compliment anyway.
again, thank you very much everyone and i hope you enjoy the ride for as long as there's enough gas.
as usual, i'm not going to dwell on this that much so... i'm out.
12.27.2004
12.26.2004
"hard" times
bumped into someone i know the other day while walking down historic session road. how historic session road is anyhow? hm.. i don't know, i just like how it sounded. anyway...
the guy was a highschool batchmate. and his sexual orientation is a bit... leaning towards the... well, he's gay. so i asked him how's it been? he answered "it's been ok."
he's not based in baguio anymore; has been working in manila for almost two years now; he paused; then he proceeded to say that times were hard for him lately. so i asked him, "it's been a bit rough eh?" he said yes, and he said that he had a hard time adjusting to life in the big city, his work was hard, paying for the bills was hard, commuting from his apartment to his work was hard. and oh.. he also added that "life's hard... everything's hard."
so in our little less-than-a-minute discussion, i've noticed that he said the word "hard" about eight times. for some reason, everytime he said the word "hard" i just couldn't help but laugh. i was trying my best to hide it though.
and when i finally couldn't hold it any longer... i just burst into laughter. he asked what was so funny. i said nothing, then i apologized. then suddenly, out of the big fucking blue, i asked him... "if times were "hard" for you lately, then you must be having the time of your life then?" silence. i laughed. then silence. then i laughed some more. when i started to notice this weird look on his face... i said "see you around."
hard times eh? funny.
i'm out.
the guy was a highschool batchmate. and his sexual orientation is a bit... leaning towards the... well, he's gay. so i asked him how's it been? he answered "it's been ok."
he's not based in baguio anymore; has been working in manila for almost two years now; he paused; then he proceeded to say that times were hard for him lately. so i asked him, "it's been a bit rough eh?" he said yes, and he said that he had a hard time adjusting to life in the big city, his work was hard, paying for the bills was hard, commuting from his apartment to his work was hard. and oh.. he also added that "life's hard... everything's hard."
so in our little less-than-a-minute discussion, i've noticed that he said the word "hard" about eight times. for some reason, everytime he said the word "hard" i just couldn't help but laugh. i was trying my best to hide it though.
and when i finally couldn't hold it any longer... i just burst into laughter. he asked what was so funny. i said nothing, then i apologized. then suddenly, out of the big fucking blue, i asked him... "if times were "hard" for you lately, then you must be having the time of your life then?" silence. i laughed. then silence. then i laughed some more. when i started to notice this weird look on his face... i said "see you around."
hard times eh? funny.
i'm out.
short
a question:
why were short skirts invented?
an answer:
short skirts were invented to capture the male species' short attention span.
i'm out.
why were short skirts invented?
an answer:
short skirts were invented to capture the male species' short attention span.
i'm out.
12.24.2004
spam?
i maintain three email accounts. one at gmail, one at yahoo, and the other one at the office. these email accounts receive spam mail everyday. i hate spam.
so i logged on to my yahoo email this morning and i saw four spammies . i checked out my gmail account and saw seven of them. and when i accessed my office email, it registered fourteen of the same. so four plus seven plus fourteen equals twenty-five spammies. pretty average if you ask me. but then... what blew my mind was that i received another kind of email, seventy-two total across my three email ads to be exact. this kind of email, in my opinion, is worse than spam. what could be worse than emails suggesting that you click on a link to increase three inches to your manhood? or an email that says your friggin' loan has been approved with a special 3.5% interest offer? i'll tell you what...
christmas emails. yep. i got all seventy-two of them and they're all over the place!
holiday greetings, seasons greetings, christmas messages, and yultide season blah-blahs were coming at me from left and right. all of which, i would hypothesize, were taken straight from a hallmark greeting card the greeter / sender / whacko received last year. some were plain text, some were with lame gif animations, some were attached with powerpoint presentations, while others got more creative and downloaded flash movies. all, however, say the exact same thing...
spend. be happy for a day. pretend to know the true meaning of the season. and be part of the fucking festivities of this god-forsaken system. in other words... submit!
it's worse than spam i tell you. if you ever get one, delete it at once. if not... well, don't say i didn't warn you. and oh, one more thing... do not forward it to anyone. please spare us.
i'm out.
so i logged on to my yahoo email this morning and i saw four spammies . i checked out my gmail account and saw seven of them. and when i accessed my office email, it registered fourteen of the same. so four plus seven plus fourteen equals twenty-five spammies. pretty average if you ask me. but then... what blew my mind was that i received another kind of email, seventy-two total across my three email ads to be exact. this kind of email, in my opinion, is worse than spam. what could be worse than emails suggesting that you click on a link to increase three inches to your manhood? or an email that says your friggin' loan has been approved with a special 3.5% interest offer? i'll tell you what...
christmas emails. yep. i got all seventy-two of them and they're all over the place!
holiday greetings, seasons greetings, christmas messages, and yultide season blah-blahs were coming at me from left and right. all of which, i would hypothesize, were taken straight from a hallmark greeting card the greeter / sender / whacko received last year. some were plain text, some were with lame gif animations, some were attached with powerpoint presentations, while others got more creative and downloaded flash movies. all, however, say the exact same thing...
spend. be happy for a day. pretend to know the true meaning of the season. and be part of the fucking festivities of this god-forsaken system. in other words... submit!
it's worse than spam i tell you. if you ever get one, delete it at once. if not... well, don't say i didn't warn you. and oh, one more thing... do not forward it to anyone. please spare us.
i'm out.
12.23.2004
scrooge
i have a question?
where the hell did all the bob ong books go?!!!
i've been at the bookstore last week, just last week! was stupid enough not to buy them when i had the chance. and suddenly the friggin' sales lady just tells me they ran out of it. shit! i'm sure you have experienced this at least once this lifetime. yeah. when you don't have the money, and self-pity envelopes you, you go out for things that you'd like to buy. name it... cds, books, guitars, computer accessories, vibrators (vibrators?!), shoes, shirts, jeans, jackets, shaving cream.... shit.. they're all there. but now you have the means to buy 'em, they suddenly go out of stock! this only validates one thing... that there is a worldwide conspiracy against people who are below thirty, below six feet, and well above 180 pounds. that is bullshit!
well, i'm not going to look for any other gift to give myself this christmas. i'll be a scrooge. and i'll have fun while being one too.
i'm out.
where the hell did all the bob ong books go?!!!
i've been at the bookstore last week, just last week! was stupid enough not to buy them when i had the chance. and suddenly the friggin' sales lady just tells me they ran out of it. shit! i'm sure you have experienced this at least once this lifetime. yeah. when you don't have the money, and self-pity envelopes you, you go out for things that you'd like to buy. name it... cds, books, guitars, computer accessories, vibrators (vibrators?!), shoes, shirts, jeans, jackets, shaving cream.... shit.. they're all there. but now you have the means to buy 'em, they suddenly go out of stock! this only validates one thing... that there is a worldwide conspiracy against people who are below thirty, below six feet, and well above 180 pounds. that is bullshit!
well, i'm not going to look for any other gift to give myself this christmas. i'll be a scrooge. and i'll have fun while being one too.
i'm out.
12.22.2004
why i don't believe in santa
well, i used to.
back when i was four, my mom told me to leave my christmas stocking (it was a sock, i never wore stockings even as a kid) hanging by the door of my room. and so i did. around 2:00 am, i heard a weird noise. so i woke up; and what i saw through a thick layer of morning star covering my eyes forever changed my life. i saw my mom and dad stuffing my christmas sock with toys and goodies. what a bummer.
that was not all.
since kindergarten all the way up to grade six, my class advisers would perinially assign me as the class fucking santa! how's that!
i did two santa roles back in high school. and another one in a freak college party.
i thought my jolly fat man alter ego would leave me once i step out of school and join the corporate world. wrong. i'll reprise my santa role tomorrow in our company's kiddie christmas party. am i experiencing santa burnout? yes. did this make me, in anyway, christmas spirit-intolerant. hell yeah it did!
so to add excitement to my role as santa tomorrow, i thought i'd add a little twist to it. i'd completely junk the whole red suit and just put on the beard and the friggin' santa hat. then i'll smoke and have the sack of goodies on one hand and have a bottle of redhorse on the other! that'll make them re-think about who's going to be santa next year!
then again... the kids. shit. i have to do this for the kids. just because i discovered at an early age one of the greatest conspiracies / hoaxes this world has ever concocted, doesn't mean i have to traumatize the little critters too, right? right.
because in a world full of corruption, greed, discrimination, biases, pretentions, inhibitions, hate, disorder, and reality... there must be a fucking central image of happiness and joy for kids everywhere to believe in. so tomorrow, i'll put on the red suit, the white beard, the red hat, pick up the friggin' red sack, and say ho-ho-ho one more time... for the kids.
aawwww... ok drop it! i don't want you getting mushy or anything. and just to remind everyone, i'm really NOT buying into this holiday spirit bullshit. at best, it's all just marketing, commercialization, and consumerism all rolled into one. but then again, i'm not telling you guys not to believe either.
i'm out.
back when i was four, my mom told me to leave my christmas stocking (it was a sock, i never wore stockings even as a kid) hanging by the door of my room. and so i did. around 2:00 am, i heard a weird noise. so i woke up; and what i saw through a thick layer of morning star covering my eyes forever changed my life. i saw my mom and dad stuffing my christmas sock with toys and goodies. what a bummer.
that was not all.
since kindergarten all the way up to grade six, my class advisers would perinially assign me as the class fucking santa! how's that!
i did two santa roles back in high school. and another one in a freak college party.
i thought my jolly fat man alter ego would leave me once i step out of school and join the corporate world. wrong. i'll reprise my santa role tomorrow in our company's kiddie christmas party. am i experiencing santa burnout? yes. did this make me, in anyway, christmas spirit-intolerant. hell yeah it did!
so to add excitement to my role as santa tomorrow, i thought i'd add a little twist to it. i'd completely junk the whole red suit and just put on the beard and the friggin' santa hat. then i'll smoke and have the sack of goodies on one hand and have a bottle of redhorse on the other! that'll make them re-think about who's going to be santa next year!
then again... the kids. shit. i have to do this for the kids. just because i discovered at an early age one of the greatest conspiracies / hoaxes this world has ever concocted, doesn't mean i have to traumatize the little critters too, right? right.
because in a world full of corruption, greed, discrimination, biases, pretentions, inhibitions, hate, disorder, and reality... there must be a fucking central image of happiness and joy for kids everywhere to believe in. so tomorrow, i'll put on the red suit, the white beard, the red hat, pick up the friggin' red sack, and say ho-ho-ho one more time... for the kids.
aawwww... ok drop it! i don't want you getting mushy or anything. and just to remind everyone, i'm really NOT buying into this holiday spirit bullshit. at best, it's all just marketing, commercialization, and consumerism all rolled into one. but then again, i'm not telling you guys not to believe either.
i'm out.
some questions i'd like to answer II
or also known as the questions you would like to ask the author of this stupid and pathetic blogsite but you felt you'd get a senseless answer anyway so why ask.
i have been asked these questions through emails, chats, phone calls, sms, casual conversations, spontaneous assemblies, press conferences, and the like. i'd try to answer them with as much sense as possible for as long as the question merits it.
q: do you believe in santa claus?
a: no. i'll tell you why in a separate blog entry.
q: given a chance, how would you like to live your life again?
a: exactly the same way... minus 14 years of pain i guess. just kidding.
q: they say rock and roll is the devil's music. do you believe in this?
a: i think jazz is the devil's music. long live john coltraine!
q: do you believe in christmas?
a: no. i think christmas is way too hypothetical for me right now.
q: nora aunor, vilma santos, or sharon cuneta?
a: sharon cuneta forever!
q: what is the sound of one hand clapping?
a: what is the sound of one finger snapping? don't you have other important things to attend to?
q: in your "barkada," who's the most annoying? who's the weirdest?
a: i'm the most annoying because i even annoy myself sometimes. i'm the weirdest because i even freakout myself sometimes.
q: what are you listening to right now?
a: "ages of you" by r.e.m. from the dead letter office album. that plus the tiny voices in my head.
q: do you consider yourself "cool?"
a: define "cool." actually no. i don't. i consider myself as an egomaniacal loser. end of answer.
q: the gadget that's in your wishlist this christmas is?
a: a lot actually. a motorolla mpx. a fender stratocaster or a rickenbacker guitar with matching marshall amps. the most powerful alienware laptop money can buy. and a 60gb ipod. but they will just remain forever as they are, just wishes. anyway, technology's a bitch! (sob)
q: your dream getaway?
a: it'll be raining outside. but i'll be inside a warm and cozy café. with a wide selection of interesting books, free flowing coffee and beer, an unlimited supply of lucky strike filters and ganja, a laptop with internet connection, and an unlimited access to all the music i want. forget the bahamas! i've been living in the tropics all my life for chrissakes!
q: in the next five years, i would have already...
a: ... finished my masters... started looking for another job... started another business... collected enough material for a friggin' self-published book of collected materials... turned 30... added another 30 pounds of dead weight!
q: how do you project yourself to others? in your opinion, what set of imagery do you give them?
a: me? project myself? you serious? i'd worry about my public image when i run for mayor. til then, they can just go ahead and have as much opinion as they want to about who the hell israel fucking buenaobra is.
... to be continued.
i have been asked these questions through emails, chats, phone calls, sms, casual conversations, spontaneous assemblies, press conferences, and the like. i'd try to answer them with as much sense as possible for as long as the question merits it.
q: do you believe in santa claus?
a: no. i'll tell you why in a separate blog entry.
q: given a chance, how would you like to live your life again?
a: exactly the same way... minus 14 years of pain i guess. just kidding.
q: they say rock and roll is the devil's music. do you believe in this?
a: i think jazz is the devil's music. long live john coltraine!
q: do you believe in christmas?
a: no. i think christmas is way too hypothetical for me right now.
q: nora aunor, vilma santos, or sharon cuneta?
a: sharon cuneta forever!
q: what is the sound of one hand clapping?
a: what is the sound of one finger snapping? don't you have other important things to attend to?
q: in your "barkada," who's the most annoying? who's the weirdest?
a: i'm the most annoying because i even annoy myself sometimes. i'm the weirdest because i even freakout myself sometimes.
q: what are you listening to right now?
a: "ages of you" by r.e.m. from the dead letter office album. that plus the tiny voices in my head.
q: do you consider yourself "cool?"
a: define "cool." actually no. i don't. i consider myself as an egomaniacal loser. end of answer.
q: the gadget that's in your wishlist this christmas is?
a: a lot actually. a motorolla mpx. a fender stratocaster or a rickenbacker guitar with matching marshall amps. the most powerful alienware laptop money can buy. and a 60gb ipod. but they will just remain forever as they are, just wishes. anyway, technology's a bitch! (sob)
q: your dream getaway?
a: it'll be raining outside. but i'll be inside a warm and cozy café. with a wide selection of interesting books, free flowing coffee and beer, an unlimited supply of lucky strike filters and ganja, a laptop with internet connection, and an unlimited access to all the music i want. forget the bahamas! i've been living in the tropics all my life for chrissakes!
q: in the next five years, i would have already...
a: ... finished my masters... started looking for another job... started another business... collected enough material for a friggin' self-published book of collected materials... turned 30... added another 30 pounds of dead weight!
q: how do you project yourself to others? in your opinion, what set of imagery do you give them?
a: me? project myself? you serious? i'd worry about my public image when i run for mayor. til then, they can just go ahead and have as much opinion as they want to about who the hell israel fucking buenaobra is.
... to be continued.
when i have enough money...
... i'd legally change my name to hugo. why? because it's a nice name. whoa! "nice?" "nice" is an adjective that sounds gay. wait a minute, hugo is not a nice name... it's dark, and mysterious, and bitchin'! now that's more like it!
then my last name would be grant... hugo grant. hm.. that sounds familiar.
i'm out.
then my last name would be grant... hugo grant. hm.. that sounds familiar.
i'm out.
12.21.2004
some questions i'd like to answer
or also known as the questions you would like to ask the author of this stupid and pathetic blogsite but you felt you'd get a senseless answer anyway so why ask.
i have been asked these questions through emails, chats, phone calls, sms, casual conversations, spontaneous assemblies, press conferences, and the like. i'd try to answer them with as much sense as possible for as long as the question merits it.
q: are you married?
a: yes i am. for about five years now. but don't remind my wife that we are married. she might suddenly wake up one morning, have an epiphany, and leave.
q: how tall are you?
a: i am 5'7" tall, but my body width prevents me from looking 5'7" tall. it creates an optical illusion of sorts. let me put it this way. according to a medical weight and height chart, with my weight my height should be 6'4".
q: do you smoke?
a: yes. as a matter of fact, i smoke a lot. but i only smoke lucky strike filters.
q: what was your greatest musical discovery?
a: that you could make the key of A minor on the fretboard of a guitar making use of only two fingers. that plus my acceptance that i can't sing at all.
q: how would you describe your personal fashion concept?
a: fashion is a fascist concept ye horsefucker!!!
q: if you were to choose between the skin on your elbow or the skin on your sole; which kind of skin would you rather have to cover your entire body?
a: the skin on my elbow. it's softer. more elastic i guess. but that'll make me look like a gigantic talking scrotum wouldn't it? oh well. the answer sticks.
q: have you ever been in love?
a: hell yeah! four times to be exact. but i'm not going to elaborate.
q: would you rather makeout with a girl without teeth or a girl without a tounge?
a: what the fuck? oh well... the one without teeth.
q: if you only have one eyebrow, where would you put it? above your left eye or above your right eye?
a: i'd put it in the middle. that way i can always look serious and pensive.
q: if you were given a chance, how would you like to finish all the sentences you've ever written or said?
a: well, the rules of the english language states that we must finish our sentences with a period (.); but if given a chance, i'd rather finish my sentences with "in accordance with the prophecy" then with a period.
q: they say your pornstar name should be the name of your first pet followed by the name of the street where you live, so what's your pornstar name?
a: rambo p. burgos... hey, it does sound good eh?
q: have you ever had an imaginary friend?
a: yes. when i was three or four. we used to play chess.
... to be continued.
i have been asked these questions through emails, chats, phone calls, sms, casual conversations, spontaneous assemblies, press conferences, and the like. i'd try to answer them with as much sense as possible for as long as the question merits it.
q: are you married?
a: yes i am. for about five years now. but don't remind my wife that we are married. she might suddenly wake up one morning, have an epiphany, and leave.
q: how tall are you?
a: i am 5'7" tall, but my body width prevents me from looking 5'7" tall. it creates an optical illusion of sorts. let me put it this way. according to a medical weight and height chart, with my weight my height should be 6'4".
q: do you smoke?
a: yes. as a matter of fact, i smoke a lot. but i only smoke lucky strike filters.
q: what was your greatest musical discovery?
a: that you could make the key of A minor on the fretboard of a guitar making use of only two fingers. that plus my acceptance that i can't sing at all.
q: how would you describe your personal fashion concept?
a: fashion is a fascist concept ye horsefucker!!!
q: if you were to choose between the skin on your elbow or the skin on your sole; which kind of skin would you rather have to cover your entire body?
a: the skin on my elbow. it's softer. more elastic i guess. but that'll make me look like a gigantic talking scrotum wouldn't it? oh well. the answer sticks.
q: have you ever been in love?
a: hell yeah! four times to be exact. but i'm not going to elaborate.
q: would you rather makeout with a girl without teeth or a girl without a tounge?
a: what the fuck? oh well... the one without teeth.
q: if you only have one eyebrow, where would you put it? above your left eye or above your right eye?
a: i'd put it in the middle. that way i can always look serious and pensive.
q: if you were given a chance, how would you like to finish all the sentences you've ever written or said?
a: well, the rules of the english language states that we must finish our sentences with a period (.); but if given a chance, i'd rather finish my sentences with "in accordance with the prophecy" then with a period.
q: they say your pornstar name should be the name of your first pet followed by the name of the street where you live, so what's your pornstar name?
a: rambo p. burgos... hey, it does sound good eh?
q: have you ever had an imaginary friend?
a: yes. when i was three or four. we used to play chess.
... to be continued.
last saturday
i can't really remember if i was too wasted to remember what happened last saturday. we had our upma (university of the philippines management association) xmas party. scheduled to start at 7:00pm, actually started 8:30pm. i was the emcee. and i haven't gotten hold of the programme until 8:15... how whacked was that?!
well, i remembered introducing everyone. and i remembered everyone laughing too. i, however, couldn't remember how i left the party. damn vodka got into my head again i guess.
oh yeah... i also remembered the part where people swapped gifts. all the gifts were suppose to be "naughty." but as always, i was the last to know about the so-called theme, so i bought a 2005 planner / organizer for the gift exhange. stupid me huh?
anyway, people left and right were getting flavored, textured, and "supercharged" vibrating condoms; some got kinky items like handcuffs and chains and whips and stuff; some got porno vids, pirated porno vids (you damn cheapos!); while one schoolmate got a bag of groceries and a toilet bowl scrub (now how kinky is that?!). what did i get? i got edible panties. i tried to try them on for size, but it only fit one of my legs, so i decided to give 'em to my wife instead.
now, if i could only figure out how to eat 'em edible panties.. hm... (shut up!!! <*slap *slap> this is not that kind of blogsite you sleaze!!!)
i'm out.
well, i remembered introducing everyone. and i remembered everyone laughing too. i, however, couldn't remember how i left the party. damn vodka got into my head again i guess.
oh yeah... i also remembered the part where people swapped gifts. all the gifts were suppose to be "naughty." but as always, i was the last to know about the so-called theme, so i bought a 2005 planner / organizer for the gift exhange. stupid me huh?
anyway, people left and right were getting flavored, textured, and "supercharged" vibrating condoms; some got kinky items like handcuffs and chains and whips and stuff; some got porno vids, pirated porno vids (you damn cheapos!); while one schoolmate got a bag of groceries and a toilet bowl scrub (now how kinky is that?!). what did i get? i got edible panties. i tried to try them on for size, but it only fit one of my legs, so i decided to give 'em to my wife instead.
now, if i could only figure out how to eat 'em edible panties.. hm... (shut up!!! <*slap *slap> this is not that kind of blogsite you sleaze!!!)
i'm out.
12.20.2004
paningit sa paningit...
Paningit sa paningit...
-ardel-
I’m back.
Back from the annals of the dead. Back to writing.
So pardon me if this falls short of the tried and tested unity, coherence and emphasis format. I’m a bit rusty, so is my keyboard. The fraggin’ spacebar won’t cooperate. Anyway in the 5 years that I haven’t been writing, I’ve been out the city, out of the country, out of my mind, out of touch, out to here. I’ve been at, in, out, over, under, above, beyond, beneath, in between, into, onto, around and about. Seriously, I’ve been trying to live a normal life. I’ve been trying to get ahead in the rat race, I’ve been doing the daily grind, I’ve been working.
Then one day, this friend of mine pressures me into writing again. I’venever given it a thought. Writing again. Writing for the heck of writing. Writing as opposed to writhing. The only thing I’ve written in the last (month?) that’s worth reading is the Incident Report I had to write to explain why there’s P266.00 missing from the collection. Hehehe. Quite entertaining actually. “…I do not intend to apologize, because I was never trained for this task….”
I remember back in the day, when I started writing. I found it therapeutic, like a panacea that took problems away, the rope you could tug at when all hope was lost. I made it my release. Then I wondered if my writing would make sense to other people, as I’m wondering now if I still make sense. Well I gotta run. I don’t know where this leads to, but I hope my editor does.
Peace! See you in a while.
-ardel-
I’m back.
Back from the annals of the dead. Back to writing.
So pardon me if this falls short of the tried and tested unity, coherence and emphasis format. I’m a bit rusty, so is my keyboard. The fraggin’ spacebar won’t cooperate. Anyway in the 5 years that I haven’t been writing, I’ve been out the city, out of the country, out of my mind, out of touch, out to here. I’ve been at, in, out, over, under, above, beyond, beneath, in between, into, onto, around and about. Seriously, I’ve been trying to live a normal life. I’ve been trying to get ahead in the rat race, I’ve been doing the daily grind, I’ve been working.
Then one day, this friend of mine pressures me into writing again. I’venever given it a thought. Writing again. Writing for the heck of writing. Writing as opposed to writhing. The only thing I’ve written in the last (month?) that’s worth reading is the Incident Report I had to write to explain why there’s P266.00 missing from the collection. Hehehe. Quite entertaining actually. “…I do not intend to apologize, because I was never trained for this task….”
I remember back in the day, when I started writing. I found it therapeutic, like a panacea that took problems away, the rope you could tug at when all hope was lost. I made it my release. Then I wondered if my writing would make sense to other people, as I’m wondering now if I still make sense. Well I gotta run. I don’t know where this leads to, but I hope my editor does.
Peace! See you in a while.
ardel is here... bow down all ye mortals!!!
i couldn't even imagine how to begin to explain to you guys just how monumental this day is for the paningit blogsite. but what the heck... i'll begin to explain it anyway... so here it goes...
today, my friend, ardel (hm... i'm not sure if he wants his last name mentioned here, so i won't say it's ocampo... oh shit.), finally gave in to my persuasion (been bugging him since i started this shit) and decided to go back to the one thing (that's maybe too overboard) that mattered in his life - his writing.
a brief history:
ardel and i met at white and blue (our university's official publication) back in 1996. well, back then, i was just a fledgling freshman / staff writer. while he, on the other hand, was already a seasoned and critically-acclaimed (or was it critically-criticized?) veteran / editorial cartoonist of the school (sorry man, i just had to play that age gap scenario.. sweet!). anyway, despite our differences (in age hahaha.. ok, ok, i'll stop, promise), we became buddies even after graduation.
ardel now works for a colossal telecommunications company. he has a wife and an adorable rugrat named aidan (my "inaanak" who just turned 1 by the way). we're still very close (ehem-ehem.. please remove any preconcieved homosexual innuendos you may have from this point on) because he and my wife are officemates and together, we are currently pursuing a master's degree in management.
end of brief history.
now, where was i? ah yes, so after approximately three months of incessant persuasion, ardel finally gave in and emailed about 33 minutes ago his first piece / contribution to paningit.blogspot.com. initially, he balked at the concept of writing for this blog. with a weird, sour smirk on his face, he asked what the hell could he possibly write about. i said he could write just about anything under the friggin' sun. there are no limits in the paningit solar system. plus i'm a good editor. why? because i abhor censorship. period.
so this is it pare. no more turning back. we will write for the sheer joy of writing and type away until our median nerves go kaput and we'll both suffer from carpal tunnel syndrome. from here on, paningit readers will be sporadically treated with what i'd like to call "ardelian literature." it's a whole new planet compared to how i write. so it's a refreshing and welcome addition to this pathetic blogsite.
oh by the way, ardel's piece is aptly titled "paningit sa paningit..." i'll post it in a while.
i'm out.
today, my friend, ardel (hm... i'm not sure if he wants his last name mentioned here, so i won't say it's ocampo... oh shit.), finally gave in to my persuasion (been bugging him since i started this shit) and decided to go back to the one thing (that's maybe too overboard) that mattered in his life - his writing.
a brief history:
ardel and i met at white and blue (our university's official publication) back in 1996. well, back then, i was just a fledgling freshman / staff writer. while he, on the other hand, was already a seasoned and critically-acclaimed (or was it critically-criticized?) veteran / editorial cartoonist of the school (sorry man, i just had to play that age gap scenario.. sweet!). anyway, despite our differences (in age hahaha.. ok, ok, i'll stop, promise), we became buddies even after graduation.
ardel now works for a colossal telecommunications company. he has a wife and an adorable rugrat named aidan (my "inaanak" who just turned 1 by the way). we're still very close (ehem-ehem.. please remove any preconcieved homosexual innuendos you may have from this point on) because he and my wife are officemates and together, we are currently pursuing a master's degree in management.
end of brief history.
now, where was i? ah yes, so after approximately three months of incessant persuasion, ardel finally gave in and emailed about 33 minutes ago his first piece / contribution to paningit.blogspot.com. initially, he balked at the concept of writing for this blog. with a weird, sour smirk on his face, he asked what the hell could he possibly write about. i said he could write just about anything under the friggin' sun. there are no limits in the paningit solar system. plus i'm a good editor. why? because i abhor censorship. period.
so this is it pare. no more turning back. we will write for the sheer joy of writing and type away until our median nerves go kaput and we'll both suffer from carpal tunnel syndrome. from here on, paningit readers will be sporadically treated with what i'd like to call "ardelian literature." it's a whole new planet compared to how i write. so it's a refreshing and welcome addition to this pathetic blogsite.
oh by the way, ardel's piece is aptly titled "paningit sa paningit..." i'll post it in a while.
i'm out.
ten years ago...
written about ten years ago... when i was just starting to explore the comforts of poetry.
***
sometimes me the future daunts,
i think of how it may end with you.
of how the event today it haunts,
even if this dusk sky ends in blue.
“regret not, live like no tomorrow.”
i’ve tried but can’t for the life of me,
to act like you, without thought to sorrow.
my ways perhaps in the future you’ll see.
maybe you’ll be on your own,
or maybe you will be
with someone in a romantic tone,
married with children, one, two or three.
maybe have a daughter, or son.
when the ones that hold steady your life are left to say,
you’ll think, i promise, always about the one:
the one who left that day.
***
it's both funny and freaky if you read one of your past works. like this one. i was looking for a book in my shelf over the weekend, and i happened to chance upon a piece of paper that looked so familiar. i started to read it. and i remembered i wrote this piece when i was in highschool. it blew me away, not because the poem was good or anything (actually the poem sucks.. go ahead, read it again and i guarantee you'll vomit hahaha), but because it was like an out-of-the-body experience of sorts. i was reading something that i wrote ten years ago, but it felt like i was not the one who wrote it.
i'm looking at history. my history. but it feels like it's not me at all. it's like i'm reading into someone else's journal or something. i kept asking myself, did i write these words? what was i thinking back then? i was just 15. the poem didn't even have a friggin' title! heck! the poem doesn't even make sense! hm.. that's funny. some things don't change at all do they? look at me, ten years later, and i still don't make sense. that validates everything then. i did write this poem.
i feel weird. it think i'll go throw up now, hope you don't mind.
i'm out.
***
sometimes me the future daunts,
i think of how it may end with you.
of how the event today it haunts,
even if this dusk sky ends in blue.
“regret not, live like no tomorrow.”
i’ve tried but can’t for the life of me,
to act like you, without thought to sorrow.
my ways perhaps in the future you’ll see.
maybe you’ll be on your own,
or maybe you will be
with someone in a romantic tone,
married with children, one, two or three.
maybe have a daughter, or son.
when the ones that hold steady your life are left to say,
you’ll think, i promise, always about the one:
the one who left that day.
***
it's both funny and freaky if you read one of your past works. like this one. i was looking for a book in my shelf over the weekend, and i happened to chance upon a piece of paper that looked so familiar. i started to read it. and i remembered i wrote this piece when i was in highschool. it blew me away, not because the poem was good or anything (actually the poem sucks.. go ahead, read it again and i guarantee you'll vomit hahaha), but because it was like an out-of-the-body experience of sorts. i was reading something that i wrote ten years ago, but it felt like i was not the one who wrote it.
i'm looking at history. my history. but it feels like it's not me at all. it's like i'm reading into someone else's journal or something. i kept asking myself, did i write these words? what was i thinking back then? i was just 15. the poem didn't even have a friggin' title! heck! the poem doesn't even make sense! hm.. that's funny. some things don't change at all do they? look at me, ten years later, and i still don't make sense. that validates everything then. i did write this poem.
i feel weird. it think i'll go throw up now, hope you don't mind.
i'm out.
who's nerdier?
:: people who stay home saturday nights doing the laundry while watching connan o'brien?
:: or people who compute (and pad) this country's pathetic GNP and GDP figures?
:: or people who still watch star trek re-runs?
:: or 30-year-olds that still have a "the-truth-is-out-there" poster hanging on their their bedroom wall?
:: or die hard fanatics of magic the gathering?
:: or single 50-year-old CEOs of multinational companies who play golf in an actual golf sweater?
:: or people who think that stamp collecting is still the "in" thing among kids?
:: or people who always, and i mean always, join those pathetic SMS games of smart and globe?
:: or people who write stupid and senseless blogs like me?
some say it's a toss-up. i think it's no contest really. those who write blogs are certified geeks. case in point... moi!
i'm out.
:: or people who compute (and pad) this country's pathetic GNP and GDP figures?
:: or people who still watch star trek re-runs?
:: or 30-year-olds that still have a "the-truth-is-out-there" poster hanging on their their bedroom wall?
:: or die hard fanatics of magic the gathering?
:: or single 50-year-old CEOs of multinational companies who play golf in an actual golf sweater?
:: or people who think that stamp collecting is still the "in" thing among kids?
:: or people who always, and i mean always, join those pathetic SMS games of smart and globe?
:: or people who write stupid and senseless blogs like me?
some say it's a toss-up. i think it's no contest really. those who write blogs are certified geeks. case in point... moi!
i'm out.
the legendary belat
i never understood the mechanics of this smiley:
could someone please explain it to me in an essay not more than 1,500 words.
i'm out.
could someone please explain it to me in an essay not more than 1,500 words.
i'm out.
12.19.2004
me grandma's better!
i feel bad for grandmothers. not because they're old or anything like that. well, maybe partly because of that. but mainly because their grandchildren always issue challenges on their behalf. y'know how that goes don't you?
you ride in a friend's car and you notice he's not driving fast enough, you quip with a "man, you drive so slow, my grandma can beat your ass in drag racing!"
you go hiking with friends and you take a breather to rest your aching knees and ankles, someone almost always never fails to say "pick up the pace man! c'mon, my grandma can even run up and down this mountain ten times faster than you could!"
or how about in fights when someone gets smacked real hard in the face and he retorts in jest "is that all you got you (expletive)?! my grandma can throw harder rabbit punches than the one you just gave me you (expletive)!!!"
i really feel bad for grandmas. which makes me wonder how many people have decided to take these challenges seriously.
scenario 1: golden acres (home for the aged)
nurse: hey thelma, y'know you're not supposed to leave the nursing home.
grandma1: i know.. but i have to go rock climbing with one of my grandson's friends.
nurse: well you better take your vitamins then.
scenario 2: at home, 9:00 pm
grandma 2: hey grandson, can i borrow your evo8 for a while?
grandson: what the??!!! why? you don't even know how to drive grandma..
grandma 2: i have to be at the loakan airport by 10pm, you set me up to drag race with one of your friends remember?
grandson: oh yeah... well, i hope you kick his ass then... here are the keys... good luck and remember to buckle up ok.
i really feel bad for grandmas. i'm out.
you ride in a friend's car and you notice he's not driving fast enough, you quip with a "man, you drive so slow, my grandma can beat your ass in drag racing!"
you go hiking with friends and you take a breather to rest your aching knees and ankles, someone almost always never fails to say "pick up the pace man! c'mon, my grandma can even run up and down this mountain ten times faster than you could!"
or how about in fights when someone gets smacked real hard in the face and he retorts in jest "is that all you got you (expletive)
i really feel bad for grandmas. which makes me wonder how many people have decided to take these challenges seriously.
scenario 1: golden acres (home for the aged)
nurse: hey thelma, y'know you're not supposed to leave the nursing home.
grandma1: i know.. but i have to go rock climbing with one of my grandson's friends.
nurse: well you better take your vitamins then.
scenario 2: at home, 9:00 pm
grandma 2: hey grandson, can i borrow your evo8 for a while?
grandson: what the??!!! why? you don't even know how to drive grandma..
grandma 2: i have to be at the loakan airport by 10pm, you set me up to drag race with one of your friends remember?
grandson: oh yeah... well, i hope you kick his ass then... here are the keys... good luck and remember to buckle up ok.
i really feel bad for grandmas. i'm out.
12.18.2004
i am sam
i just remembered... one of my favorite movies of all time is i am sam.. sean penn.. remember that movie? i loved it. off the bat, after the introduction and the initial credits were shown, i knew i immediately connected with sean penn's character, sam. sean penn, by the way, is considered as one of hollywood's most powerful actors. i was a fan of sean penn ever since i saw the movie full metal jacket. oh yeah.. going back... why did i immediately connect and relate with sam? five things actually:
:: i have two daughters and i know how it is to be a father; like sam i wouldn't want anyone to take my kids away from me
:: i love starbucks coffee, and sam works (or worked) for starbucks
:: i love the beatles.. and sam is a huge fan of the beatles
:: i love the movie kramer vs. kramer
:: and most imporatant of all... i'm also a retard
i'm out.
:: i have two daughters and i know how it is to be a father; like sam i wouldn't want anyone to take my kids away from me
:: i love starbucks coffee, and sam works (or worked) for starbucks
:: i love the beatles.. and sam is a huge fan of the beatles
:: i love the movie kramer vs. kramer
:: and most imporatant of all... i'm also a retard
i'm out.
gift-giving (of john lennon and bob ong)
friggin' christmas!!!
if anything, it's just a reason for people to have less guilt in spending their hard-earned dinero throughout the year. yes my dear feathered friends, christmas is not a sacred religious event unlike what the sacred cows of the catholic church claim... it's just a marketing phenomena. a blitz that happens once a year, where all shops and enterprising individuals water down the prices (termed as a "sale") of their unsold goods for the past 11 months.. that'll show up good in their balance sheets at the end of the year.
what sickens me about christmas is the gift-giving part. they say it's better to give gifts on christmas. what the fuck does that mean? c'mon, it's someone else's "hypothetical" birthday and it's better to give gifts on that day? gifts are always nice to give anytime of the year. personally, i think it's better to give and/or receive one when there's no ocassion at all.. it's just more heart-warming that way... imagine someone giving you a gift for no apparent reason. awww... ok drop it!
but nonetheless, i must oblige to the gift-giving tradition of this friggin' tradition (originally was a paganic tradition by the way). so i pretty much settled the gifts i will give my kids and my wife (she's asking for a set of white gold jewelry or something.. i don't know). now time for indulgence, or also known as the gifts i would give myself.
hm.. let's see... ok... i plan to buy three bob ong books that would cost me less than 700 bucks total (relatively cheap eh? hey, what can i say.. i'm a scrooge), but as i was wandering in the bowels of national bookstore last night (around 9:30 pm), i happened to see the book that i was drooling for for the past month or so. the book is lennon legend. i saw it last night. i touched it even. opened it. saw the pullouts and the originally reproduced (hm.. that's ironic.. original-reproductions.. hahahaha) artworks of john almighty. and i have to say, i immediately fell in love with it. well, ok, it was more of an infatuation.. but a strong infatuation. the book is a bit pricey at 1,895 dineros.. but i think it's well worth it. so what do i do? do i buy bob ong.. or do i buy lennon? no contest really... i'll buy them both next week. i just can't let lennon slip away y'know... not this time. i won't let michael azzerad's nirvana happen twice.
john lennon is god. bob ong is a demi-god. i'd have them both for christmas.
before i leave, think about this for a moment... don't you think it seems a bit odd... the day the catholics commemorate jesus' "immacualte conception" falls exactly on the day lennon was shot? it's december 8. pretty freaky huh? makes you think whether lennon was a jesus incarnate or jesus was a lennon incarnate. oh well, nevermind that.. it's just one of my illogical concepts that wouldn't go anywhere anyway.
shoutout: hey hoseal!!! remember john kennon? hahahaha!!! i do. to all of you who doesn't know hoseal, well he's my best real-imaginary (another ironic concept.. like "original-reproductions") friend. in the philippines, he is known as the the national man of mystery (as opposed to austin powers' international man of mystery title.. but you already got the concept.. why do i need to explain further eh?).
i'm out. i leave you with this to imagine:
imagine there's no heaven, it's easy if you try, no hell below us, above us only sky, imagine all the people living for today...
imagine there's no countries, it isnt hard to do, nothing to kill or die for, no religion too, imagine all the people living life in peace...
imagine no possesions, i wonder if you can, no need for greed or hunger, a brotherhood of man, imagine all the people sharing all the world...
you may say i'm a dreamer, but Im not the only one, i hope some day you'll join us, and the world will live as one.
if anything, it's just a reason for people to have less guilt in spending their hard-earned dinero throughout the year. yes my dear feathered friends, christmas is not a sacred religious event unlike what the sacred cows of the catholic church claim... it's just a marketing phenomena. a blitz that happens once a year, where all shops and enterprising individuals water down the prices (termed as a "sale") of their unsold goods for the past 11 months.. that'll show up good in their balance sheets at the end of the year.
what sickens me about christmas is the gift-giving part. they say it's better to give gifts on christmas. what the fuck does that mean? c'mon, it's someone else's "hypothetical" birthday and it's better to give gifts on that day? gifts are always nice to give anytime of the year. personally, i think it's better to give and/or receive one when there's no ocassion at all.. it's just more heart-warming that way... imagine someone giving you a gift for no apparent reason. awww... ok drop it!
but nonetheless, i must oblige to the gift-giving tradition of this friggin' tradition (originally was a paganic tradition by the way). so i pretty much settled the gifts i will give my kids and my wife (she's asking for a set of white gold jewelry or something.. i don't know). now time for indulgence, or also known as the gifts i would give myself.
hm.. let's see... ok... i plan to buy three bob ong books that would cost me less than 700 bucks total (relatively cheap eh? hey, what can i say.. i'm a scrooge), but as i was wandering in the bowels of national bookstore last night (around 9:30 pm), i happened to see the book that i was drooling for for the past month or so. the book is lennon legend. i saw it last night. i touched it even. opened it. saw the pullouts and the originally reproduced (hm.. that's ironic.. original-reproductions.. hahahaha) artworks of john almighty. and i have to say, i immediately fell in love with it. well, ok, it was more of an infatuation.. but a strong infatuation. the book is a bit pricey at 1,895 dineros.. but i think it's well worth it. so what do i do? do i buy bob ong.. or do i buy lennon? no contest really... i'll buy them both next week. i just can't let lennon slip away y'know... not this time. i won't let michael azzerad's nirvana happen twice.
john lennon is god. bob ong is a demi-god. i'd have them both for christmas.
before i leave, think about this for a moment... don't you think it seems a bit odd... the day the catholics commemorate jesus' "immacualte conception" falls exactly on the day lennon was shot? it's december 8. pretty freaky huh? makes you think whether lennon was a jesus incarnate or jesus was a lennon incarnate. oh well, nevermind that.. it's just one of my illogical concepts that wouldn't go anywhere anyway.
shoutout: hey hoseal!!! remember john kennon? hahahaha!!! i do. to all of you who doesn't know hoseal, well he's my best real-imaginary (another ironic concept.. like "original-reproductions") friend. in the philippines, he is known as the the national man of mystery (as opposed to austin powers' international man of mystery title.. but you already got the concept.. why do i need to explain further eh?).
i'm out. i leave you with this to imagine:
imagine there's no heaven, it's easy if you try, no hell below us, above us only sky, imagine all the people living for today...
imagine there's no countries, it isnt hard to do, nothing to kill or die for, no religion too, imagine all the people living life in peace...
imagine no possesions, i wonder if you can, no need for greed or hunger, a brotherhood of man, imagine all the people sharing all the world...
you may say i'm a dreamer, but Im not the only one, i hope some day you'll join us, and the world will live as one.
jaded
hm... nobody uses the word jaded anymore. i wonder why?
i love jaded. it's like a nice and a politically-correct way to describe someone who is really fucked up and left hanging by a thread. there aren't many words like it. it accomplishes so much in so little. plus, it's one of those words that once said, people really don't / or are ashamed to ask what it means... you can just say they're jaded and they'd shut up and accept whatever definition the word is attached with... because it sounds so good... like androgyny, but that's another story.
today i am jaded. but i am happy. how's that? i don't know why. or maybe i do know, but i won't tell you why.
i'm out.
i love jaded. it's like a nice and a politically-correct way to describe someone who is really fucked up and left hanging by a thread. there aren't many words like it. it accomplishes so much in so little. plus, it's one of those words that once said, people really don't / or are ashamed to ask what it means... you can just say they're jaded and they'd shut up and accept whatever definition the word is attached with... because it sounds so good... like androgyny, but that's another story.
today i am jaded. but i am happy. how's that? i don't know why. or maybe i do know, but i won't tell you why.
i'm out.
12.17.2004
come together
it's funny how filipino families get together.
you invite the whole family (some call 'em clan) for your birthday, and your lucky if three or four of them show up.
you invite them for christmas, they ask for your menu, you tell them you'll be having lechon and about 10% of them show up; tell them you'll be having wanton noodles, and it's sayonara before it even started.
you invite them for new year, and unless you have some serious, kick-ass fireworks display on new year's eve, they'll come up with some lame excuse that they couldn't come because they can't get a cab or something.
and oh, how about those boring family reunions eh? you send out invitations for everyone... mark it with RSVP... about 50% says yes.. then you'll see 30% of them at the party. mostly those who show up are distant uncles who are AA escapees or spinster aunts.
but death... ha! now, that's a different story all together. you don't even have to invite them. they just friggin' show up. it's like they smell it. creepy i tell you.
well as you all know (or don't know... who the fuck cares anyway), we recently had a death in the family... and family members from all over came in droves.. some came from batangas, pangasinan, cavite, ilocos, cagayan, bicol, and manila. i mean, shit! it was like a circus! a lot of them i have never even met, not once, in my life. and somehow these relatives who i've never met have their own little anecdote about me when i was young, how i looked so cute before and shit (ha! big disappointment in front of you eh!?), and how when i was a young kid i always liked to sing in family gatherings and such (fuck!! when did that happen?). and somehow, these relatives always had something good to say about my tito who died... saying he was a good man all his life .. shit! how can you say that... you never even had beer with the guy.
funny. our concept of family, and close family ties and togetherness.. it's really funny. but this much i know is true (hm.. sounded like a spandau ballet song), nothing brings filipino families together more than death... when they have to gather 'round the dead body of a relative they've never even had the chance to have a profound conversation with.. and speak of how he was so good, and so blessed when he was still alive. then you ask them his name.. and they can't even remember his name. funny.
i'm out.
you invite the whole family (some call 'em clan) for your birthday, and your lucky if three or four of them show up.
you invite them for christmas, they ask for your menu, you tell them you'll be having lechon and about 10% of them show up; tell them you'll be having wanton noodles, and it's sayonara before it even started.
you invite them for new year, and unless you have some serious, kick-ass fireworks display on new year's eve, they'll come up with some lame excuse that they couldn't come because they can't get a cab or something.
and oh, how about those boring family reunions eh? you send out invitations for everyone... mark it with RSVP... about 50% says yes.. then you'll see 30% of them at the party. mostly those who show up are distant uncles who are AA escapees or spinster aunts.
but death... ha! now, that's a different story all together. you don't even have to invite them. they just friggin' show up. it's like they smell it. creepy i tell you.
well as you all know (or don't know... who the fuck cares anyway), we recently had a death in the family... and family members from all over came in droves.. some came from batangas, pangasinan, cavite, ilocos, cagayan, bicol, and manila. i mean, shit! it was like a circus! a lot of them i have never even met, not once, in my life. and somehow these relatives who i've never met have their own little anecdote about me when i was young, how i looked so cute before and shit (ha! big disappointment in front of you eh!?), and how when i was a young kid i always liked to sing in family gatherings and such (fuck!! when did that happen?). and somehow, these relatives always had something good to say about my tito who died... saying he was a good man all his life .. shit! how can you say that... you never even had beer with the guy.
funny. our concept of family, and close family ties and togetherness.. it's really funny. but this much i know is true (hm.. sounded like a spandau ballet song), nothing brings filipino families together more than death... when they have to gather 'round the dead body of a relative they've never even had the chance to have a profound conversation with.. and speak of how he was so good, and so blessed when he was still alive. then you ask them his name.. and they can't even remember his name. funny.
i'm out.
a suggestion, a comforting suggestion
got this the other day.
letter sender: "hope your day's better than yesterday...oo nga, sana balik na sa realidad and a bit stable na by now. =) out with the depressing muna ha, what u think?"
what do i think? well i think that's a mighty fine suggestion. but it's hard to let go of depression.. it's so.. so.. comforting. hahaha!!! ok ok just kidding. actually, beer is comforting. a grande mocha is comforting. writing poetry is comforting. even writing stupid blog entries is comforting. talking to friends is comforting. getting an email from a friend is comforting. talking to the ones who love you is comforting. talking to the ones you love is even more comforting. what the heck.. even spontaneous farting is comforting.. it really is.
hey thanks man. i owe you one. it sounds cliché but i'm going to say it anyway... thanks for being there, egging me to just hang on. hm... hang on to what if i may ask? hahaha!!! just kidding.
i'm out.
letter sender: "hope your day's better than yesterday...oo nga, sana balik na sa realidad and a bit stable na by now. =) out with the depressing muna ha, what u think?"
what do i think? well i think that's a mighty fine suggestion. but it's hard to let go of depression.. it's so.. so.. comforting. hahaha!!! ok ok just kidding. actually, beer is comforting. a grande mocha is comforting. writing poetry is comforting. even writing stupid blog entries is comforting. talking to friends is comforting. getting an email from a friend is comforting. talking to the ones who love you is comforting. talking to the ones you love is even more comforting. what the heck.. even spontaneous farting is comforting.. it really is.
hey thanks man. i owe you one. it sounds cliché but i'm going to say it anyway... thanks for being there, egging me to just hang on. hm... hang on to what if i may ask? hahaha!!! just kidding.
i'm out.
something to jumpstart my morning
compliments (sincere or otherwise) are such nice things to hear. take this email i got for instance:
***
jesus is like one of the biggest rockstar(s) superstar(s) who ever lived and christmas is his fans day.
so to all the fans (one way or the other), merry christmas! (too bad, they dont have merry marley day here in the pinas...with everybody carolling legalize it on your doorsteps)
heh, me thinks 'worshiping' the christ and eddie vedder is not too dissimilar....
though i like vedder's literature better:"you know what i really need right now? i need to know what people want from me... they want you to be a leader, they want you to be a victim. they want your fucking soul..." eddie vedder june 1994
{{ if i cant find an interestingly eccentric narcissistic (heh :P) conversation over white chocoloate mocha - grande - hot - non-fat - no whip, ill just take it to go and read your blogsite}}
peace!
***
ah yes... nothing like a good grande mocha to feed my ego in the morning! just what i needed. thanks man, y'know who you are.
i'm out.
***
jesus is like one of the biggest rockstar(s) superstar(s) who ever lived and christmas is his fans day.
so to all the fans (one way or the other), merry christmas! (too bad, they dont have merry marley day here in the pinas...with everybody carolling legalize it on your doorsteps)
heh, me thinks 'worshiping' the christ and eddie vedder is not too dissimilar....
though i like vedder's literature better:"you know what i really need right now? i need to know what people want from me... they want you to be a leader, they want you to be a victim. they want your fucking soul..." eddie vedder june 1994
{{ if i cant find an interestingly eccentric narcissistic (heh :P) conversation over white chocoloate mocha - grande - hot - non-fat - no whip, ill just take it to go and read your blogsite}}
peace!
***
ah yes... nothing like a good grande mocha to feed my ego in the morning! just what i needed. thanks man, y'know who you are.
i'm out.
whoa! our first entry...
ok ok ok.. dang i'm giddy!!! we just had our first entry to this (stupid) blog game of ours and its from anonymous... now why am i not surprised. hm.. anyway, here's what anonymous has to say:
(read in a very assumptionista kolehiyala almost cheaply lasallian yet with a very dignified - read: pretentious - arrenean accent)
paningit.blogspot.com sucks because its writer isn't gay? it's like you're supposed to be gay to suck? but then this paningit blog sucks? how is that so? is there any other meaning to the word suck? sucks, er, shucks!
my comments:
:: this made me laugh real hard... did i shit my pants? well, that's for me to know and for you guys to smell.
:: it was also extra funny the way anonymous gave an instruction on how to read the entry... though i'm not sure if "arrenean" was suppose to be "atenean."
:: anonymous made a mistake, he/she didn't leave his/her name and email address. how am i suppose to give you your shirt if i don't even know who you are? don't worry, i won't disqualify you. if you don't want to post your name and email address, you can just email me at: ijdbuenaobra@gmail.com.
:: lastly, anonymous should wish that no one is insane enough to join this game... that way he'll/she'll win by default. am i obligated to give the prize to the only person... the single most insane one... who had the balls to join this game? of course. hey, i have to protect my integrity here. that's funny. integrity? this blog's integrity? really funny.
ok, so that's one participant in what? two days? dang! what do i have to do just to get you guys think of something profound and tell me why the hell this blogsite sucks?!! hm.. maybe i should raise the stakes. yeah! the winner will not only get a shirt, but also a brand new 40gb ipod! hahaha. yeah right! in your friggin' dreams you mo-fo's.
hey, keep those entries comin'.. the shirt still stands.
i'm out.
(read in a very assumptionista kolehiyala almost cheaply lasallian yet with a very dignified - read: pretentious - arrenean accent)
paningit.blogspot.com sucks because its writer isn't gay? it's like you're supposed to be gay to suck? but then this paningit blog sucks? how is that so? is there any other meaning to the word suck? sucks, er, shucks!
my comments:
:: this made me laugh real hard... did i shit my pants? well, that's for me to know and for you guys to smell.
:: it was also extra funny the way anonymous gave an instruction on how to read the entry... though i'm not sure if "arrenean" was suppose to be "atenean."
:: anonymous made a mistake, he/she didn't leave his/her name and email address. how am i suppose to give you your shirt if i don't even know who you are? don't worry, i won't disqualify you. if you don't want to post your name and email address, you can just email me at: ijdbuenaobra@gmail.com.
:: lastly, anonymous should wish that no one is insane enough to join this game... that way he'll/she'll win by default. am i obligated to give the prize to the only person... the single most insane one... who had the balls to join this game? of course. hey, i have to protect my integrity here. that's funny. integrity? this blog's integrity? really funny.
ok, so that's one participant in what? two days? dang! what do i have to do just to get you guys think of something profound and tell me why the hell this blogsite sucks?!! hm.. maybe i should raise the stakes. yeah! the winner will not only get a shirt, but also a brand new 40gb ipod! hahaha. yeah right! in your friggin' dreams you mo-fo's.
hey, keep those entries comin'.. the shirt still stands.
i'm out.
12.15.2004
blog game
so eventually, the holiday spirit caught up with me. despite my depression (call it whatever you want.. funk, slump, exhaustion..), i couldn't deny that it's that time of the year again where people get extra generous and warm and shit.
so here's the deal... i'm willing to give out... drumroll please... a free shirt this christmas. yes, a friggin shirt. all you have to do, my dear reader, is to join my stupid blog game. the game is simple.. hey, i'm obligated to make it simple and keep it that way because i can't really compute the intellectual mean of everyone who visits this pathetic blogsite... you just have to answer a stupid question. to answer, just hit the "comments" link at the bottom of this blog, post your answer, and make sure to leave your name (or nickname) and email address. contest deadline is on december 27, 2004.
simple eh? good. then let's begin. today's task is to complete the sentence:
paningit.blogspot.com sucks because...
i'll go first.
:: paningit.blogspot.com sucks because the writer is a self-absorbed, selfish, pompous blabber-mouth who can't spell right, has bad grammar, and refuses to engage its readers in intelligent discussions about life and politics. and he also "alienates" some of his readers with poetry that either bores or makes one think about suicide.
:: paningit.blogspot.com sucks because the writer simply looks so friggin' ugly!
:: paningit.blogspot.com sucks because reading it makes you feel that it's only as good as the worst possible sex any self-resepecting human being could ever have.
there you are, three samples. now, that wasn't so hard was it?
so complete the sentence and follow the instructions.. if i really like your answer ("like" means if it makes me laugh out hard enough for me to shit my pants!) , i'll email you for your contact details, so i can send you your friggin shirt mo'fo'. hey, it's free!
i'm out. have fun!
so here's the deal... i'm willing to give out... drumroll please... a free shirt this christmas. yes, a friggin shirt. all you have to do, my dear reader, is to join my stupid blog game. the game is simple.. hey, i'm obligated to make it simple and keep it that way because i can't really compute the intellectual mean of everyone who visits this pathetic blogsite... you just have to answer a stupid question. to answer, just hit the "comments" link at the bottom of this blog, post your answer, and make sure to leave your name (or nickname) and email address. contest deadline is on december 27, 2004.
simple eh? good. then let's begin. today's task is to complete the sentence:
paningit.blogspot.com sucks because...
i'll go first.
:: paningit.blogspot.com sucks because the writer is a self-absorbed, selfish, pompous blabber-mouth who can't spell right, has bad grammar, and refuses to engage its readers in intelligent discussions about life and politics. and he also "alienates" some of his readers with poetry that either bores or makes one think about suicide.
:: paningit.blogspot.com sucks because the writer simply looks so friggin' ugly!
:: paningit.blogspot.com sucks because reading it makes you feel that it's only as good as the worst possible sex any self-resepecting human being could ever have.
there you are, three samples. now, that wasn't so hard was it?
so complete the sentence and follow the instructions.. if i really like your answer ("like" means if it makes me laugh out hard enough for me to shit my pants!) , i'll email you for your contact details, so i can send you your friggin shirt mo'fo'. hey, it's free!
i'm out. have fun!
spongebob squarepants
you do know spongebob right? i mean, you do have cable tv right? anyway...
what does the resident geek / annoying crabby patty burger flipper of bikini bottom always wants to say during tv interviews?
spongebob: please go out and see my movie, buy my watches, buy my shirts, buy my tumblers, watch my show, visit my website... but whatever you do -- stay away from Hasselhoff. he's mine!
so all the talk, buzz, and hooplah surrounding spongebob and his sexuality are true... what he has under those square pants of his, juxtaposed between his legs, is nothing more than... sponge.
i'm out.
what does the resident geek / annoying crabby patty burger flipper of bikini bottom always wants to say during tv interviews?
spongebob: please go out and see my movie, buy my watches, buy my shirts, buy my tumblers, watch my show, visit my website... but whatever you do -- stay away from Hasselhoff. he's mine!
so all the talk, buzz, and hooplah surrounding spongebob and his sexuality are true... what he has under those square pants of his, juxtaposed between his legs, is nothing more than... sponge.
i'm out.
seriously
this came in as an email. the most amusing email i got today. it's from rizza and i think it was a reaction / response to what i posted in the friendster bulletin board yesterday which was:
"jesus can't save you.. although its nice to think he tried.. this is not to scare you.. this is just to make sense of our times.." -- the black crowes, "evil eye"-- simply put, black crowes is the best sounding collection of anorexics i have ever heard.
then rizza said:
seriously, i think jesus christ was schizophrenic, he seemed to have all the symptoms. he was a good man though. but i think he is better off putting up a government rather than a religion.
ah yes... the talented and amusing rizza is back!
i'm out.
"jesus can't save you.. although its nice to think he tried.. this is not to scare you.. this is just to make sense of our times.." -- the black crowes, "evil eye"-- simply put, black crowes is the best sounding collection of anorexics i have ever heard.
then rizza said:
seriously, i think jesus christ was schizophrenic, he seemed to have all the symptoms. he was a good man though. but i think he is better off putting up a government rather than a religion.
ah yes... the talented and amusing rizza is back!
i'm out.
what if...
:: what if fernando poe jr. smoked a pack less of marlboro or drank a bottle less of his favorite whiskey, would he still be alive today? would he have won the presedential elections of 2004? would he have made a difference anyway?
:: what if loren didn't administer all those blowjobs, would she have ran for vice president anyway?
:: what if i regularly watched john and marsha episodes before, would i have cried upon hearing the news of nida blanca's violent end?
:: what if i haven't read a single conrado de quiros column or a single pugad baboy comic strip, would i still be the philippine daily inquirer fan that i am today?
:: what if i insisted to study in diliman, would i have graduated college before i was 20?
:: what if i insisted to study in don bosco makati for high school, would i still be alive today?
:: what if i were lactose intolerant, would i have landed a job at hedcor?
:: what if i have been obssessed with being like alan greenspan, would i have pursued a degree in economics instead?
:: what if i were a devout catholic, would i still have apologized to the devil and listened to his side of the story?
:: what if i were a bigger fan of voltes v rather than daimos, would i still be searching for erika?
:: what if i and the rest of my friends tripped on crack instead of weed, would i still be overweight? would i still have enough sleep?
:: what if i haven't been so into tv dinners, would i have spent less time eating and more time reading than eating and watching tv at the same time?
:: what if i haven't grown a goatee, would my barber be more friendly?
:: what if my wife's folks were still alive, would they have migrated to australia? would we have met? where would she be now? where would i be now? living separate lives i guess; the sad thing though, we wouldn't have met justine and alex.
:: what if i haven't heard of the cure's "boys don't cry" and the dawn's "envelope ideas" back in 1988, would i be high on rnb and nigger music today instead?
:: what if my sister iris were alive, would i have been born in 1979? or would i have been born at all?
:: what if i'm more into juices rather than coffee, would i be shaking less every exam?
:: what if i talked less and listened more, would i have an overwhelming and suffocating number of irritating friends? as irritating as i am?
:: what if there were no religions and governments, just people living in symbiotic communities, would there have been a need to put up gay bars?
:: what if i took the bus rather than the cab, would i still have money left for lunch and coffee?
:: what if i just wake up 20 minutes earlier everyday, would my 201 file be as thick as it is?
:: what if i had beer instead of vodka; a tape deck instead of a cd player; a sweater instead of a jacket; a book instead of a magazine; latté instead of mocha; black instead of blue; orange instead of grey; a skinhead instead of a crop; a cat instead of a dog; answers instead of just plain stupid questions, would i still be me?
:: what if you didn't turn your back, what then?
i'm out.
:: what if loren didn't administer all those blowjobs, would she have ran for vice president anyway?
:: what if i regularly watched john and marsha episodes before, would i have cried upon hearing the news of nida blanca's violent end?
:: what if i haven't read a single conrado de quiros column or a single pugad baboy comic strip, would i still be the philippine daily inquirer fan that i am today?
:: what if i insisted to study in diliman, would i have graduated college before i was 20?
:: what if i insisted to study in don bosco makati for high school, would i still be alive today?
:: what if i were lactose intolerant, would i have landed a job at hedcor?
:: what if i have been obssessed with being like alan greenspan, would i have pursued a degree in economics instead?
:: what if i were a devout catholic, would i still have apologized to the devil and listened to his side of the story?
:: what if i were a bigger fan of voltes v rather than daimos, would i still be searching for erika?
:: what if i and the rest of my friends tripped on crack instead of weed, would i still be overweight? would i still have enough sleep?
:: what if i haven't been so into tv dinners, would i have spent less time eating and more time reading than eating and watching tv at the same time?
:: what if i haven't grown a goatee, would my barber be more friendly?
:: what if my wife's folks were still alive, would they have migrated to australia? would we have met? where would she be now? where would i be now? living separate lives i guess; the sad thing though, we wouldn't have met justine and alex.
:: what if i haven't heard of the cure's "boys don't cry" and the dawn's "envelope ideas" back in 1988, would i be high on rnb and nigger music today instead?
:: what if my sister iris were alive, would i have been born in 1979? or would i have been born at all?
:: what if i'm more into juices rather than coffee, would i be shaking less every exam?
:: what if i talked less and listened more, would i have an overwhelming and suffocating number of irritating friends? as irritating as i am?
:: what if there were no religions and governments, just people living in symbiotic communities, would there have been a need to put up gay bars?
:: what if i took the bus rather than the cab, would i still have money left for lunch and coffee?
:: what if i just wake up 20 minutes earlier everyday, would my 201 file be as thick as it is?
:: what if i had beer instead of vodka; a tape deck instead of a cd player; a sweater instead of a jacket; a book instead of a magazine; latté instead of mocha; black instead of blue; orange instead of grey; a skinhead instead of a crop; a cat instead of a dog; answers instead of just plain stupid questions, would i still be me?
:: what if you didn't turn your back, what then?
i'm out.
12.14.2004
last ride
today was tito fred's burial. i was there to be with him in his last ride. for all of you who extended their condolences and shared our grief, thank you very much. hey, here's to better days!
i'm out.
i'm out.
12.13.2004
playlist
oh man. i can't focus on anything today. i can't even eat. i haven't accomplished a single report. i've been in the office since 9:00 this morning. and it doesn't help that i'm listening to my own playlist in the computer. my playlist? well.. in my opinion, is one of the most depressing collection of songs. here's a taste of what i've been listening to since i got here:
call and answer - barenaked ladies
all apologies - nirvana
boys don't cry - the cure
ghost in you - psychedelic furs
landslide - smashing pumpkins
message in a bottle - sting
drepressing i tell you. i tried playing music over at yahoo messenger (launchcast).. but the damn player kept on hanging and crashing. as one of my friends used to say... BULOK TALAGA ANG YM!!!..
it seems that i just can't get away from all the drama and depression that was sent by god to this planet today. my eyes are drooping and my vision is cloudy; my mind is swirling non-stop and my thoughts are just wandering; i have this planet of grief and regret resting on my chest; and my stomach is turning and churning so violently that everytime i open my mouth i feel like throwing up.
dang! i don't even know why i even bothered to post a blog in the first place.
i'm fucking out. hopefully, for the rest of my life.
call and answer - barenaked ladies
all apologies - nirvana
boys don't cry - the cure
ghost in you - psychedelic furs
landslide - smashing pumpkins
message in a bottle - sting
drepressing i tell you. i tried playing music over at yahoo messenger (launchcast).. but the damn player kept on hanging and crashing. as one of my friends used to say... BULOK TALAGA ANG YM!!!..
it seems that i just can't get away from all the drama and depression that was sent by god to this planet today. my eyes are drooping and my vision is cloudy; my mind is swirling non-stop and my thoughts are just wandering; i have this planet of grief and regret resting on my chest; and my stomach is turning and churning so violently that everytime i open my mouth i feel like throwing up.
dang! i don't even know why i even bothered to post a blog in the first place.
i'm fucking out. hopefully, for the rest of my life.
12.11.2004
a tribute to fred... the man... the legend
he was a big influence in my life. a lot of people don't know him, but he's a celebrity in my world.
:: my first lessons in rhetoric, sarcasm, and stand-up comedy were all from him. i remember he used to light every party and family reunion with his wit and humor.
:: as a little kid with a father working in another country, i almost always go with him whenever he goes beer drinking with his friends. of course i wasn't drinking, just hanging out and inhaling second hand smoke from perpetually burning marlboro reds. it felt pretty cool back then. while most kids my age were busy playing their GI JOE action figures, i was out hanging with my homies.
:: he insisted that i dress as a kid from the '70s - striped psychedlic colored shirts, curdoroy pants, and chuck taylors. it was fashion rebellion for a child who pretty much grew during the '80s. i have learned to loathe acid washed jeans, wind breakers, and stupid jackets with "used" patches on them.
:: i learned the streets because of him.
:: i had a strong affinity with brands like levi's, dockers, converse (especially chucks), ray ban, asics, hush puppies, and lee because of him.
:: street food was his forte. chicharon bituka, kikiam, fishballs, one-day old chicks, isaw, atay, adidas, name it and he'll eat it, pretty much like what i do. he also has an uncanny talent for finding dingy and sleazy restaurants that serve the most affordable and tasty chinese budget meals.
:: i remember back in highschool, i was shooting some hoops at our front yard. he was watching me and was being an annoying critic. he said my form was off, my jumpshot was lousy, and pivot foot was never in place. he said, back in the day, he was a basketball varsity for his school. of course i knew he was lying. so i challenged him to a little one-on-one. he got the first possession, drove to the basket, faked going left, made a scrappy pivot to the right, elevated, and struggled to attempt a decent fade away jumper over my outstreched arms. i ended up blocking his shot while he landed hard on his butt. we were laughing non-stop. then it was my possession... no contest really... i just swished a long jumper... then we laughed some more. and the game ended 1-0. but truth be told, neither of us really knew how to play basketball.
:: i remember when i was about twelve, we went down to manila for vacation. when we got there, we immediately joined our respective barkadas. at about 4:00 am the following day, there was a knock at the door... he came home onboard a pushcart because he was too drunk to even know where he was. the story is now an urban legend in our neighborhood in makati.
:: i remember his story when he started working for insular life in makati. he said times were hard back then. he narrated how he always prepared his lunch every morning. his lunch was always tuyo, red eggs, tomatoes, and fried rice. he would put them in a plastic bag and double pack it with a brown paper bag. he would go to work everyday riding the bus, and buses back then were always jampacked. he'd stand on the aisle with one hand on a bar and one hand holding his lunch. one day, while on the bus, standing on the aisle half-asleep, the bus made a sudden stop to avoid an accident. he was jerked from where he was standing and lost hold of his lunch. well, his lunch had an accident. regaining his balance and footing, he saw the fried rice, tuyo, red eggs, and tomatoes rolling across the floor. he said he was so embarassed that he had to get off the bus and walk about a kilometer to his work.
:: i remember when i was ten, the house was left to just the two of us. he invited all of his friends over for a party. he was so drunk that night. before i went to bed, he called me into his room. i was trembling in fear when i saw him bring out his .38 revolver. he took it out of the holster, took out the bullets, and he let me hold it. that night i had a crash course on how to hold and fire a gun. he said that i should always be prepared fire a gun... to protect the family. he said that one day i'd have a family of my own, and that i should always be ready to protect them... to kill or even die for them. i took to heart his intoxicated words that night. but still, i don't like guns.
:: i remember he used to take me to this hill beside our house in baguio. we would go on top of the hill every afternoon for siesta. we'd lie down on the grass and stare at the blue sky and the clouds. amid the blooming gladiola flowers and cool breeze of the wind, he'd always remind me to just keep on dreaming. dream about anything, he said, it's free anyway. i was about four or five then. and i always remembered those words, and how his eyes would glow everytime he said that someday we'd be having a better life.
:: i remember three years ago.. it was december.. he was rushed to the hospital because one of his kidneys failed. while we were talking, he started to cry and said that he wanted to live longer, spend more time with his wife, and have a second chance at life. the family did every it could to save him. with the help of a twice-a-week dialysis treatment, he was blessed with three more years.
the last week of november 2004 was difficult for all of us. he refused, on his own will, to go have his usual dialysis treatments. he said he was already tired. he refused to even go to the hospital and opted to only take in painkillers.
i was in bohol that week, when i arrived, he immediately said he wanted to see me. it was too late... his body was already too frail and too weak to even talk. i sat on his side, but all he could offer were faint smiles and a nod here and there. we didn't talk, but somehow i understood what he was trying to say. through his eyes, he reminded me to always be happy... to always love and protect my family... and to always keep on dreaming, simply because it was free.
he spent his last days in his bed with his wife for eight years, tita annie, beside him. they were never blessed with a child... maybe that's why he was beaming with pride when my first child, justine, was born on the same date as his, july 30.
his last days were spent listening to nat king cole, frank sinatra and dean martin songs. though he was very weak, he had enough energy to raise his hands and do some finger-dancing with them. then he would look at his wife... staring at her eyes, throwing smiles at her ... like he was saying that everything's going to be alright... like he was saying that she was the only one he ever loved... like he was thanking her for everything... like he was saying he looked forward to the day they'd meet again.
on december 10, 2004... 6:05 pm... antonio alfredo madriaga dominguez, 49, made peace with himself, with everyone in his family, and his god.
i arrived home about 7:30pm... i was by his deathbed, staring at his cold body, as tita belen, tita annie and my mom was measuring him. i couldn't believe what was happening around me. everyone was crying. i didn't... well... not there. i went out his room and went inside the other room, it was dark, the light was shut, and there i let it all out... alone. i knew i shouldn't let them see me cry, not because i was ashamed by it, but because i know i have to be strong for them, especially for tita annie. i went out of the room and volunteered to go to the funeral. i was shaking as i picked out his coffin.
i lost an uncle... a father... a dear friend... and a hero. his body is lying cold now in his coffin... but i know his soul is free and happy. i know that from time to time he'd come visit me... and remind me... to just keep on dreaming.
:: my first lessons in rhetoric, sarcasm, and stand-up comedy were all from him. i remember he used to light every party and family reunion with his wit and humor.
:: as a little kid with a father working in another country, i almost always go with him whenever he goes beer drinking with his friends. of course i wasn't drinking, just hanging out and inhaling second hand smoke from perpetually burning marlboro reds. it felt pretty cool back then. while most kids my age were busy playing their GI JOE action figures, i was out hanging with my homies.
:: he insisted that i dress as a kid from the '70s - striped psychedlic colored shirts, curdoroy pants, and chuck taylors. it was fashion rebellion for a child who pretty much grew during the '80s. i have learned to loathe acid washed jeans, wind breakers, and stupid jackets with "used" patches on them.
:: i learned the streets because of him.
:: i had a strong affinity with brands like levi's, dockers, converse (especially chucks), ray ban, asics, hush puppies, and lee because of him.
:: street food was his forte. chicharon bituka, kikiam, fishballs, one-day old chicks, isaw, atay, adidas, name it and he'll eat it, pretty much like what i do. he also has an uncanny talent for finding dingy and sleazy restaurants that serve the most affordable and tasty chinese budget meals.
:: i remember back in highschool, i was shooting some hoops at our front yard. he was watching me and was being an annoying critic. he said my form was off, my jumpshot was lousy, and pivot foot was never in place. he said, back in the day, he was a basketball varsity for his school. of course i knew he was lying. so i challenged him to a little one-on-one. he got the first possession, drove to the basket, faked going left, made a scrappy pivot to the right, elevated, and struggled to attempt a decent fade away jumper over my outstreched arms. i ended up blocking his shot while he landed hard on his butt. we were laughing non-stop. then it was my possession... no contest really... i just swished a long jumper... then we laughed some more. and the game ended 1-0. but truth be told, neither of us really knew how to play basketball.
:: i remember when i was about twelve, we went down to manila for vacation. when we got there, we immediately joined our respective barkadas. at about 4:00 am the following day, there was a knock at the door... he came home onboard a pushcart because he was too drunk to even know where he was. the story is now an urban legend in our neighborhood in makati.
:: i remember his story when he started working for insular life in makati. he said times were hard back then. he narrated how he always prepared his lunch every morning. his lunch was always tuyo, red eggs, tomatoes, and fried rice. he would put them in a plastic bag and double pack it with a brown paper bag. he would go to work everyday riding the bus, and buses back then were always jampacked. he'd stand on the aisle with one hand on a bar and one hand holding his lunch. one day, while on the bus, standing on the aisle half-asleep, the bus made a sudden stop to avoid an accident. he was jerked from where he was standing and lost hold of his lunch. well, his lunch had an accident. regaining his balance and footing, he saw the fried rice, tuyo, red eggs, and tomatoes rolling across the floor. he said he was so embarassed that he had to get off the bus and walk about a kilometer to his work.
:: i remember when i was ten, the house was left to just the two of us. he invited all of his friends over for a party. he was so drunk that night. before i went to bed, he called me into his room. i was trembling in fear when i saw him bring out his .38 revolver. he took it out of the holster, took out the bullets, and he let me hold it. that night i had a crash course on how to hold and fire a gun. he said that i should always be prepared fire a gun... to protect the family. he said that one day i'd have a family of my own, and that i should always be ready to protect them... to kill or even die for them. i took to heart his intoxicated words that night. but still, i don't like guns.
:: i remember he used to take me to this hill beside our house in baguio. we would go on top of the hill every afternoon for siesta. we'd lie down on the grass and stare at the blue sky and the clouds. amid the blooming gladiola flowers and cool breeze of the wind, he'd always remind me to just keep on dreaming. dream about anything, he said, it's free anyway. i was about four or five then. and i always remembered those words, and how his eyes would glow everytime he said that someday we'd be having a better life.
:: i remember three years ago.. it was december.. he was rushed to the hospital because one of his kidneys failed. while we were talking, he started to cry and said that he wanted to live longer, spend more time with his wife, and have a second chance at life. the family did every it could to save him. with the help of a twice-a-week dialysis treatment, he was blessed with three more years.
the last week of november 2004 was difficult for all of us. he refused, on his own will, to go have his usual dialysis treatments. he said he was already tired. he refused to even go to the hospital and opted to only take in painkillers.
i was in bohol that week, when i arrived, he immediately said he wanted to see me. it was too late... his body was already too frail and too weak to even talk. i sat on his side, but all he could offer were faint smiles and a nod here and there. we didn't talk, but somehow i understood what he was trying to say. through his eyes, he reminded me to always be happy... to always love and protect my family... and to always keep on dreaming, simply because it was free.
he spent his last days in his bed with his wife for eight years, tita annie, beside him. they were never blessed with a child... maybe that's why he was beaming with pride when my first child, justine, was born on the same date as his, july 30.
his last days were spent listening to nat king cole, frank sinatra and dean martin songs. though he was very weak, he had enough energy to raise his hands and do some finger-dancing with them. then he would look at his wife... staring at her eyes, throwing smiles at her ... like he was saying that everything's going to be alright... like he was saying that she was the only one he ever loved... like he was thanking her for everything... like he was saying he looked forward to the day they'd meet again.
on december 10, 2004... 6:05 pm... antonio alfredo madriaga dominguez, 49, made peace with himself, with everyone in his family, and his god.
i arrived home about 7:30pm... i was by his deathbed, staring at his cold body, as tita belen, tita annie and my mom was measuring him. i couldn't believe what was happening around me. everyone was crying. i didn't... well... not there. i went out his room and went inside the other room, it was dark, the light was shut, and there i let it all out... alone. i knew i shouldn't let them see me cry, not because i was ashamed by it, but because i know i have to be strong for them, especially for tita annie. i went out of the room and volunteered to go to the funeral. i was shaking as i picked out his coffin.
i lost an uncle... a father... a dear friend... and a hero. his body is lying cold now in his coffin... but i know his soul is free and happy. i know that from time to time he'd come visit me... and remind me... to just keep on dreaming.
12.10.2004
alienating some of you eh?
i just got an email from a friend. no, i'd rather not mention who he is. he said he regularly visits this blogsite and soon enough got hooked to it (well good for you!). anyway, at the end of his email he asked me what the fuck is it that i want to do with this blogsite.
at first, he thought that the blog was all about funny stories, one-liners, and wise-cracks. then he went on reading the other entries and was a bit alienated when he started reading poetry. and he expressed his concern that some readers may be alienated as well because of my recent indulgence in posting poems.
shit!!! hahahahaha!!!! you just made my day man!!!!
nice one... really... i appreciate that. it's been a while since i got that kind of response from people who have read my so-called poetry. it's nothing special really, and if you just carefully read between the lines, they're all actually stupid. a lot of them, if not all of them, can pass either as a funny story, a one-liner, or a wise-crack.
yeah, indeed it's been a while since i got that response. you want to know why? of course you do. well, if you don't, do you have a choice? i'm going to explain it anyway... so hush. the last poem i've ever written was "junkie," which i posted on this blogsite last september. i wrote it three and a half years ago. you can read it if you scroll down.. way down there. just don't get "alienated" after reading it hahahaha!!!! what a word!.. while the poem "gitara," posted last september 20, was written about six years ago, back in 1998 when i was still in a band. no, it was not a marching band.
anyway, after i wrote "junkie,"... well, let me see, how can i explain this... somehow after that poem, i sort of lost it. well... let's just say... i sort of lost myself.
then during the last couple of months, something happened to me... after a long sabbatical, my poetry came back. and i welcomed it with open arms like how the father in that bible story i knew a couple of decades back welcomed his prodigal son ... and i also found myself again... i hope. so that's that. how did it happen? well, in the words of another friend, who i'd rather not mention the name, "dunnoh.."
so, to my valued readers and critics, i suggest you first read this blog's label before consumption. if you just look up there where the paningit brand name is written, yes at the header, directly below it is the label /warning that says: a blah blah blah blogsite. i think it's pretty self explanatory.
hahaha.. "alienated".. what a load of baloney.. hahaha.
i'm out.
at first, he thought that the blog was all about funny stories, one-liners, and wise-cracks. then he went on reading the other entries and was a bit alienated when he started reading poetry. and he expressed his concern that some readers may be alienated as well because of my recent indulgence in posting poems.
shit!!! hahahahaha!!!! you just made my day man!!!!
nice one... really... i appreciate that. it's been a while since i got that kind of response from people who have read my so-called poetry. it's nothing special really, and if you just carefully read between the lines, they're all actually stupid. a lot of them, if not all of them, can pass either as a funny story, a one-liner, or a wise-crack.
yeah, indeed it's been a while since i got that response. you want to know why? of course you do. well, if you don't, do you have a choice? i'm going to explain it anyway... so hush. the last poem i've ever written was "junkie," which i posted on this blogsite last september. i wrote it three and a half years ago. you can read it if you scroll down.. way down there. just don't get "alienated" after reading it hahahaha!!!! what a word!.. while the poem "gitara," posted last september 20, was written about six years ago, back in 1998 when i was still in a band. no, it was not a marching band.
anyway, after i wrote "junkie,"... well, let me see, how can i explain this... somehow after that poem, i sort of lost it. well... let's just say... i sort of lost myself.
then during the last couple of months, something happened to me... after a long sabbatical, my poetry came back. and i welcomed it with open arms like how the father in that bible story i knew a couple of decades back welcomed his prodigal son ... and i also found myself again... i hope. so that's that. how did it happen? well, in the words of another friend, who i'd rather not mention the name, "dunnoh.."
so, to my valued readers and critics, i suggest you first read this blog's label before consumption. if you just look up there where the paningit brand name is written, yes at the header, directly below it is the label /warning that says: a blah blah blah blogsite. i think it's pretty self explanatory.
hahaha.. "alienated".. what a load of baloney.. hahaha.
i'm out.
ctrl + alt + del (the end of the world)
so this is how the world ends.
not with a bang,
nor with a whimper,
but with the resolution
of all of life's
paradoxes and ironies.
because the world only exists
in our struggles to
understand paradoxes and ironies.
but you cannot
live life and understand life
all at the same time.
on the other hand...
life understood, is life lived...
though a lot less ordinary as it may seem.
the world ends, nonetheless, when...
man dances to the music of
life's ambiguities and incongruence,
and willingly embraces
irony, and paradox,
and the fallacy of equivocations.
not with a bang,
nor with a whimper,
but with the resolution
of all of life's
paradoxes and ironies.
because the world only exists
in our struggles to
understand paradoxes and ironies.
but you cannot
live life and understand life
all at the same time.
on the other hand...
life understood, is life lived...
though a lot less ordinary as it may seem.
the world ends, nonetheless, when...
man dances to the music of
life's ambiguities and incongruence,
and willingly embraces
irony, and paradox,
and the fallacy of equivocations.
12.09.2004
the dead dreams too
lying in my grave,
dreaming of things,
of soulmates, and of second chances,
and of parallel lives, and of the one who got away.
it was funny.
because when i was still alive,
i always dreamt of those things
while having coffee.
but i was dreaming of those things
at the back of my head.
while the front side was busied with
bill payments, work, and routines.
now i'm stiff and cold,
i have all the time in the world
to dream of dreams,
and of the one who got away.
there are no walls here,
no limits and no inhibitions,
no one dictating what i could or could not say,
no one judging what is right or wrong or proper.
i like it here because here
i am my own muse.
i have found my poetry and i have found myself
and i can freely dream of the one who got away.
dreaming of things,
of soulmates, and of second chances,
and of parallel lives, and of the one who got away.
it was funny.
because when i was still alive,
i always dreamt of those things
while having coffee.
but i was dreaming of those things
at the back of my head.
while the front side was busied with
bill payments, work, and routines.
now i'm stiff and cold,
i have all the time in the world
to dream of dreams,
and of the one who got away.
there are no walls here,
no limits and no inhibitions,
no one dictating what i could or could not say,
no one judging what is right or wrong or proper.
i like it here because here
i am my own muse.
i have found my poetry and i have found myself
and i can freely dream of the one who got away.
before sunset
after months of waiting, before sunset was finally released in theatres here in baguio. well it's about damn time i tell you. the movie poster has been hanging on the walls of the mall for months, and for the longest time had the sign "coming soon" at its lower right hand corner.
so did i go see it? of course i did. you think i'm some kind of idiot or something, raving about a movie for so long, then not go see it? yeah, i watched it last night. alone? with my wife of course.
so how was it you ask... like i said in my post way back in october... before sunrise blew me away... and the sequel was no different.
to say that i loved the movie would be a total injustice and a severe understatement. what i loved more were the characters, jesse and celine. that is how each and every great movie should be made, character driven, story driven. in a nutshell, the characters supercede the movie simply because they are the movie, they are the story, nothing more, nothing less.
before sunset was also a fitting end for my day yesterday. yesterday was tough i tell you. it was an emotional rollercoaster. i went from being perky and happy, to frisky and agitated, to down and depressed, to confused and dumbfounded, to just plain numb. then i saw the movie and everything was alright again.
going back to the characters, they were both amazing. it was like they really got nine years older. their spontainety and their love for the unrehearsed are all still there. though toned down a bit. maybe because they were older.
what happened? well, the movie starts with jesse (ethan hawke) in a bookshop in paris promoting his book, it was the last stop of his tour before going back to new york. the book, by the way, was all about their story... his and celine's (julie delpy) and that 14-hour relationship they shared in vienna nine years ago. it was amazing how the director (richard linklater) was able to inject snippets of the original movie into the dialogue as jesse was explaining his book to the french press. for those of us who were able to watch.. and connect.. with the first movie, the flashing scenes were just a rush of emotions. honestly, i felt like i was feeling what jesse wallace was feeling. then at the corner of his eye, there she was, celine.
so after jesse's mini presscon was wrapped up, the two got together and did what they do best... no not sex you dimwit.. talk. they conversed. they reconnected. they had an engaging free flow exhange of ideas, thoughts, and of course, emotions. although they did talk about sex more in this film than the first one, it was excusable. i mean c'mon, they had sex nine years ago. anyway...
so they navigated through paris, had a brief coffee break, rode on a boat, and rediscovered themselves. jesse admitted that he wrote the book as a sort of a way to find celine, and he also admitted that he showed up six months after on that exact spot where they promised to see each other after that night in vienna. celine on the other hand admitted that she had failing relationships one after the other ever since they met because she never felt that connection with anyone else other than jesse. still, both of them were questioning the decision they made nine years ago, on why they hadn't exchanged numbers. they were young, stupid, and romantic then. now they're older, they start to evaluate the cause and effect of their past choices. both of them thought things could've been significantly different had they exchanged numbers nine years ago. what a bummer.
the movie ended with both of them in celine's apartment. jesse was sitting on the couch drinking tea, while celine was dancing to kath bloom's (was that kath bloom?) song "come here." celine teasingly said/suggested to jesse, "you are going to miss your flight." and jesse said with a smirk on his face, "i know."
like the first movie, the ending was never really clear. it was left hanging in the air for hopeless romantics like us to draw up the ending ourselves. it was suppose to be about closure, about second chances, and what could've beens... i guess it was. but for me it was about reality.
i'm out.
so did i go see it? of course i did. you think i'm some kind of idiot or something, raving about a movie for so long, then not go see it? yeah, i watched it last night. alone? with my wife of course.
so how was it you ask... like i said in my post way back in october... before sunrise blew me away... and the sequel was no different.
to say that i loved the movie would be a total injustice and a severe understatement. what i loved more were the characters, jesse and celine. that is how each and every great movie should be made, character driven, story driven. in a nutshell, the characters supercede the movie simply because they are the movie, they are the story, nothing more, nothing less.
before sunset was also a fitting end for my day yesterday. yesterday was tough i tell you. it was an emotional rollercoaster. i went from being perky and happy, to frisky and agitated, to down and depressed, to confused and dumbfounded, to just plain numb. then i saw the movie and everything was alright again.
going back to the characters, they were both amazing. it was like they really got nine years older. their spontainety and their love for the unrehearsed are all still there. though toned down a bit. maybe because they were older.
what happened? well, the movie starts with jesse (ethan hawke) in a bookshop in paris promoting his book, it was the last stop of his tour before going back to new york. the book, by the way, was all about their story... his and celine's (julie delpy) and that 14-hour relationship they shared in vienna nine years ago. it was amazing how the director (richard linklater) was able to inject snippets of the original movie into the dialogue as jesse was explaining his book to the french press. for those of us who were able to watch.. and connect.. with the first movie, the flashing scenes were just a rush of emotions. honestly, i felt like i was feeling what jesse wallace was feeling. then at the corner of his eye, there she was, celine.
so after jesse's mini presscon was wrapped up, the two got together and did what they do best... no not sex you dimwit.. talk. they conversed. they reconnected. they had an engaging free flow exhange of ideas, thoughts, and of course, emotions. although they did talk about sex more in this film than the first one, it was excusable. i mean c'mon, they had sex nine years ago. anyway...
so they navigated through paris, had a brief coffee break, rode on a boat, and rediscovered themselves. jesse admitted that he wrote the book as a sort of a way to find celine, and he also admitted that he showed up six months after on that exact spot where they promised to see each other after that night in vienna. celine on the other hand admitted that she had failing relationships one after the other ever since they met because she never felt that connection with anyone else other than jesse. still, both of them were questioning the decision they made nine years ago, on why they hadn't exchanged numbers. they were young, stupid, and romantic then. now they're older, they start to evaluate the cause and effect of their past choices. both of them thought things could've been significantly different had they exchanged numbers nine years ago. what a bummer.
the movie ended with both of them in celine's apartment. jesse was sitting on the couch drinking tea, while celine was dancing to kath bloom's (was that kath bloom?) song "come here." celine teasingly said/suggested to jesse, "you are going to miss your flight." and jesse said with a smirk on his face, "i know."
like the first movie, the ending was never really clear. it was left hanging in the air for hopeless romantics like us to draw up the ending ourselves. it was suppose to be about closure, about second chances, and what could've beens... i guess it was. but for me it was about reality.
i'm out.
ethan hawke
a friend of mine, about three weeks ago, saw my status message in ym (yahoo messenger) that read: "you have reached the winter of my discontent." he said the line sounded familiar. and i said it was one of ethan hawke's quotables in the film reality bites. that part where all of them were high in the living room and ben stiller called to check on winona ryder (aahh.. winona), and hawke was the one who answered the phone and said the line.
my friend said his status message (which said: "in protest") pales in comparisson to ethan hawke's younger brother. take note, the operative word here is "younger." anyway, so i asked who's ethan hawke's younger brother. he said it was me. i asked him why is that? he simply said i was the incredible hawke. thanks very much rey.
i'm out.
my friend said his status message (which said: "in protest") pales in comparisson to ethan hawke's younger brother. take note, the operative word here is "younger." anyway, so i asked who's ethan hawke's younger brother. he said it was me. i asked him why is that? he simply said i was the incredible hawke. thanks very much rey.
i'm out.
12.08.2004
thirty-minute mocha-rhumba rhyme
two souls with two frappés
were in a soul café
exchanging highs and lows of their respective days
and respecting each other's space
while wafts of caffeine fill their tastes
they throw at each other
half smiles that mean whole truths
as they cautiously converse with measured moves
but none of it seems to matter
as both know it will soon be over
in just half an hour
after a half-hour's worth of stories were exhausted
token thank yous and goodbyes were said
and each turned the opposite way
suddenly everything became faint recollections with shades of grey
soon the half smiles will be gone but the whole truths will stay
it will linger like the taste of the frappés
those two souls shared that fateful day
inside a soul café
were in a soul café
exchanging highs and lows of their respective days
and respecting each other's space
while wafts of caffeine fill their tastes
they throw at each other
half smiles that mean whole truths
as they cautiously converse with measured moves
but none of it seems to matter
as both know it will soon be over
in just half an hour
after a half-hour's worth of stories were exhausted
token thank yous and goodbyes were said
and each turned the opposite way
suddenly everything became faint recollections with shades of grey
soon the half smiles will be gone but the whole truths will stay
it will linger like the taste of the frappés
those two souls shared that fateful day
inside a soul café
12.05.2004
wordneed
what i feel today
is no different
from what i felt yesterday
or a week before
or a month before
or a year before
or a decade before
or a lifetime before
this lifetime
i am unstable
but i...
i have always yearned
for your words
for your phrases
for your sentences
for your paragraphs
for your story
even for those
unsaid and untold before
this lifetime
it makes me stable
but somwhere between
today and yesterday
your words and your story
being stable and being not
i have learned to accept
and not demand
because this is just what it is
my reluctant insistence
and your insistent reluctance
of our today and yesterday
of our words and stories
and all of those left unknown
will remain unknown even after
this lifetime
is no different
from what i felt yesterday
or a week before
or a month before
or a year before
or a decade before
or a lifetime before
this lifetime
i am unstable
but i...
i have always yearned
for your words
for your phrases
for your sentences
for your paragraphs
for your story
even for those
unsaid and untold before
this lifetime
it makes me stable
but somwhere between
today and yesterday
your words and your story
being stable and being not
i have learned to accept
and not demand
because this is just what it is
my reluctant insistence
and your insistent reluctance
of our today and yesterday
of our words and stories
and all of those left unknown
will remain unknown even after
this lifetime
answers
you say that
man's only claim is
his happiness
i agree
you say that
the cause of suffering is
man's concept of self
i agree
you ask the questions
you search for the answers
and you look down upon
lesser mortals who cannot fathom
your divinity and transcendence
you are buddha on a mountain
alone and cold
you look down and curse us
for basking under our own
ignorance and lack of vocabulary
you talk about existence
but you do not talk about life
and yet you say that man's only claim is
his happiness
now i tell you this
in happiness
to each his own...
to each his own
(for hoseal... may you truly find your answers and yourself)
man's only claim is
his happiness
i agree
you say that
the cause of suffering is
man's concept of self
i agree
you ask the questions
you search for the answers
and you look down upon
lesser mortals who cannot fathom
your divinity and transcendence
you are buddha on a mountain
alone and cold
you look down and curse us
for basking under our own
ignorance and lack of vocabulary
you talk about existence
but you do not talk about life
and yet you say that man's only claim is
his happiness
now i tell you this
in happiness
to each his own...
to each his own
(for hoseal... may you truly find your answers and yourself)
my wife
this came in as an email a couple of minutes ago. it's from my wife. looks like i'm not the only one who needs a break eh.. well, she said, and i quote:
"today is a very stressful day... how I wish that i was dead... there really comes a time in your life that you wish for something so absurd like being dead thinking it's the only way out...well..."
now, let's sit back and analyze this for a moment shall we. if your wife writes you a letter with just this in it (i mean really, this was just it, no greetings, no goodbyes, no nothing)... what would that say about you? i mean c'mon man, she wants to die... and she's married to me. so what does that say about me?
i think it's pretty obvious isn't it? yeah, we need time together.
i'm out.
"today is a very stressful day... how I wish that i was dead... there really comes a time in your life that you wish for something so absurd like being dead thinking it's the only way out...well..."
now, let's sit back and analyze this for a moment shall we. if your wife writes you a letter with just this in it (i mean really, this was just it, no greetings, no goodbyes, no nothing)... what would that say about you? i mean c'mon man, she wants to die... and she's married to me. so what does that say about me?
i think it's pretty obvious isn't it? yeah, we need time together.
i'm out.
tired... dead tired
i am tired.
for the past three or four weekends i haven't been home and been working my ass off. i didn't celebrate my birthday (bet you know that by now), haven't attended class, been shuttling back and forth through cold, hot, humid, rainy, windy and sunny weather, and haven't even had, a decent night's sleep... not even one this past november and december.
work. i tell you. sometimes it can just take the living daylights out of you.
well i'm out. i'm off to another meeting in twenty minutes. yes, in twenty minutes! yes, on a sunday!
for the past three or four weekends i haven't been home and been working my ass off. i didn't celebrate my birthday (bet you know that by now), haven't attended class, been shuttling back and forth through cold, hot, humid, rainy, windy and sunny weather, and haven't even had, a decent night's sleep... not even one this past november and december.
work. i tell you. sometimes it can just take the living daylights out of you.
well i'm out. i'm off to another meeting in twenty minutes. yes, in twenty minutes! yes, on a sunday!
12.01.2004
proximity
prox·im·i·ty [prok símm?tee] n closeness: closeness in space or time
[15th century. From Latin proximitas “nearness,” from proximus “nearest,” the superlative form of prope “near” (source of English approach).]
***
the sun is a colosal and imposing astronomical figure. it generates its own light, heat and power. it has been around for billions of years.
the moon, on the other hand, is just a mirror. it can not create anything on its own other than gravitational pull.
the sun is equal to twenty seven million moons.
all known laws and equations in science and math will prove that the sun is greater than the moon.
however, it is interesting to note that the sun has no chance against the moon, when it comes to the earth's approval.
because in the laws and equations of love... proximity is more important than remote radiance.
just a thought... just a thought.
i'm out.
[15th century. From Latin proximitas “nearness,” from proximus “nearest,” the superlative form of prope “near” (source of English approach).]
***
the sun is a colosal and imposing astronomical figure. it generates its own light, heat and power. it has been around for billions of years.
the moon, on the other hand, is just a mirror. it can not create anything on its own other than gravitational pull.
the sun is equal to twenty seven million moons.
all known laws and equations in science and math will prove that the sun is greater than the moon.
however, it is interesting to note that the sun has no chance against the moon, when it comes to the earth's approval.
because in the laws and equations of love... proximity is more important than remote radiance.
just a thought... just a thought.
i'm out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)