World Of Albert

Ten Strange Things I May Never Understand

2012-02-01T10:26:00.004+07:00

Mo Twister And Beautiful Women

Bunny Paras. Janette McBride. Rhian Ramos. You have to hand it to Mo Twister. Despite being an imp, he has his way with women not of his league. He is no George Clooney. Actually, Mo is vertically challenged, plain looking and most often acts like a douche bag. Yet he possesses an unexplainable charm with lovely women. Sometimes, God is unfair.

The Football Craze

It baffles me how a boring sport could be number one in the world. With a game involving athletes taking forever to score, I am always unable to endure watching soccer. What’s more baffling is how a not-so-exciting sport could incite more riots than any other athletic competition. No wonder, it took much media hype and a bunch of good looking Fil-foreign players before Filipinos learned to embrace football.

The Two Cellphone Syndrome

From the high school student to the young professional, it makes me wonder why some ordinary people have the need to be subscribed to two networks as if they were big shot business tycoons who could not afford to miss an important call. For a regular person like me, I find it a hassle: the financial toll, the time one takes to check on two phones and the bulk of carrying both. I am practically clueless as to why these common people could not afford to just pick one network/phone that is best suited for their taste.

The Singing And Dancing Movie Star

Aside from being thespians, celebrities in our country need to be singers and dancers as well. Despite lacking talent in those departments, an artista is mandated to do such when promoting an upcoming tv or movie project. Instead of just doing a short promotional sit down interview like in Hollywood, our movie stars shame themselves by doing something they are not good at. For reasons beyond my comprehension, our local stars who are strictly actors cannot seem to concentrate on what they do best, ACTING.

Spitting In Public

As if their lungs are infused with lots of phlegm that they need to immediately evacuate, most Filipinos have the nasty habit of spitting anywhere in public. Despite being an eyesore and a health hazard, it is despicable how these people nonchalantly discharge their spit in plain view of others. Whatever the reason is for this shameless habit, it is about time that a law should be implemented against spitting. The penalty to which is forcing the violator to suck his spit right back into his damn throat.

People Becoming Ecstatic During New Year’s Eve

Celebrating a wedding or after passing the board exam is understandable. But my mind could not quite comprehend why people become so festive during new year’s eve as if it is a life changing event. They waste tons of money on fireworks. They throw lavish parties. Most notably, they become manic when the clock strikes 12 (Yehey! Happy New Year!). The fact is, new year is just a passing of time. No amount of merrymaking could make your life better. It would still suck like last year unless you work harder or win the lottery.

Aging Actors Being Paired With Young Stars

Perhaps we live in a chauvinistic society, our movies and teleserye always depict an aged male lead star with a young actress as his love interest. Whether he is Vic Sotto, Aga Muhlach, Robin Padilla or Bong Revilla, female stars who are half their ages (some even younger than their real life children) are mandatorily picked as their on screen partners. It’s like Brad Pitt pairing up with Miley Cyrus. Ironically when a local actress turns 30, she has no choice but to play mother roles to stars who are just ten years younger than she is. Our local entertainment industry is truly strange.

People Calling Themselves Kapuso And Kapamilya

I find it eerie how the tv channels in our country have turned into a religion spearheaded by the two leading tv networks. As if they are members of tribes going into a battle against each other, ABS CBN and GMA 7 have even instilled upon their own warring avid viewers to call themselves Kapamilya and Kapuso respectively. Subsequently, other tv channels followed. With a nation that is already divided, I could not understand why this shit exists.

The Lust For Expensive Bags

For someone to buy a half a million peso hand bag, it is highly unreasonable. Unlike a car or a home theater system which is practically more useful, bags are just bags. They serve no purpose other than to place your things. There are other ways of showing off an opulent lifestyle. I cannot find any logical reason why on a mere hand bag.

Foreigners Going After Ugly Filipinas

Short, nasally challenged and dark skinned. Most likely, foreigners strolling in our malls would have a Filipino companion with these physical attributes. Maybe they have a peculiar definition of beauty, foreigners, Caucasians in particular, always go for chimay looking Pinays. Despite the fact that our country is blessed with many beautiful women, foreigners tend to have a different taste. With this observation, it makes me wonder if they find the likes of Sam Pinto ugly.

Confession Of An ASAP And Party Pilipinas Hater

2012-01-23T09:59:00.001+07:00

Sunday is a torturous day. When twelve o' clock strikes, the variety shows of ABS CBN and GMA 7 befoul the atmosphere of most Filipino households. Aside from the soap operas, ASAP and Party Pilipinas contribute largely to the backward television programming of the local tv networks. The redundancy, the schmaltz, and the showcase of inept performances are testament to the idiocy of this form of entertainment. Perhaps the avid viewers of these shows are bigots. For the sake of seeing their favorite celebrities do other things than act, they are willing to endure contaminating their eyes with the poor quality of these programs.

In a country where people are over fascinated with ear-shattering vocal prowess, it is no wonder that song number of biritan is a constant element of these noontime shows. The further a singer inflicts punishment to her vocal cords, the more mind blowing. The further a singer deprives herself of oxygen, the more fascinating. Regrettably, these generic breed of singers who subject themselves to laryngeal torture have always been regarded as great musical talents. Yet I beg to disagree.

Furthermore, it is just pure evil, when these Sunday variety shows let a great local band play alongside with their most-often-than-not untalented musically clueless hosts, thereby murdering the overall performance. This poignantly lame noontime show tradition dates all the way back to Kuya Germ's GMA Supershow. Makes me wonder who is the wicked brainchild of this pathetic scheme. Perhaps, even Satan himself will sell his soul to the evil mind who perpetuated this evil tradition.

Noticeably, the obvious lip synching and uncoordinated dance movements rampant in ASAP and Party Pilipinas makes me wanna think I'm time warped to some kindergarten juveniles doing their school program. But these are professional tax-paying celebrities performing at their best-- or worst. This shameless display of lackluster talent can be compared to a man-made disaster created for television.

To escape moronic overload and possible mental retardation, I have ceased in watching these shows. The sad part is, there is no denying that there is a wide audience for these noontime shows. An audience that would go into their school girl kilig frenzy every time a matinee idol dance with his two left feet. An audience that would shrieked every time a male heartthrob does a digitally-enhanced prerecorded song number. Call me cruel. Call me brutal. But the constant top-rating performance of these programs just reflect currently what type of society we live in. This article is not to degrade the followers of these shows. This is more of a call for these programs to change, at least for the better.

My Ex Girlfriend And Richard Gutierrez

2012-01-16T09:58:00.000+07:00

What was supposed to be a romantic date during the commercially driven event called Valentine's Day became an unforgettable torment in my entire movie watching experience. By my then girlfriend's persuasion, or should I say threat, I was made to watch Let The Love Begin. Beforehand, I already had a bad premonition about the movie because it stars Richard Gutierrez. I wholeheartedly and passionately hate the said celebrity. But before his mother starts coming out at The Buzz to berate me, let me explain myself. I abhor Richard Gutierrez merely for his poor acting ability. Despite having starred in numerous telenovelas and major motion pictures, Richard up to this day has failed to improve on his craft. That is why, it became my personal demon, having stood watching a Richard Gutierrez movie for the whole 90 minute duration.

Before seeing the movie, me and my then girlfriend had an argument. I wanted to see a big budgeted Hollywood action flick. She preferred Let The Love Begin. Much to my chagrin, I gave in. As we entered the moviehouse, maybe due to my overwhelming dismay, I was on the verge of confessing to her that I had faked all my orgasms during our intimate moments in bed.

Let The Love Begin is a movie where I would rather be on the rooftop during a flash flood. As expected, the Richard Gutierrez-Angel Locsin starrer is fueled with bad acting, mediocrity, cinematic cliches, rampant commercialism and a lot of cheese. There is nothing worth raving about the movie except seeing Angel Locsin. Let The Love Begin is simply an ordinary episode from a tv drama that made its way to the big screen to rake millions for its lead stars and its cunning movie producers at the expense of a fanatical audience. Less than 30 minutes of the film had passed, I was already paralyzed with annoyance. Majority came from Richard Gutierrez's retardate acting. Some stemmed from the overused and predictable storyline (rich meets poor - fights first - then fall in love afterwards.) Some was a result of the obnoxious pair of Mark and Jennylyn, the other stars of the movie.

Perhaps due to my undying boredom, I began to observe the people at the venue. The full housed theater was reeking with mush as most of the moviegoers were couples. But at least, I got to see who was having sex with who. There were also groups of friends, possibly either fans of the loveteams or avid Kapuso's. The audience eagerly gush everytime the lead stars were being focused on screen. While Let The Love Begin provoked fits of joy for others, the current situation that I was in became unacceptable.

An hour of the film had gone and I was already wishing for someone to shout "Sunog!" On one dramatic scene, Richard Gutierrez easily became a travesty. Apparently, acting for him meant delivering all the emoting to his eyebrows while adding papungay ng mata for cinematic effect. It was a gruesome punishment that was difficult to watch. When the characters of Richard and Angel finally kissed, the audience went into a kilig frenzy. Showing their well-coordinated operatic talent, they blurted out in chorus, "Aieeeee!" At that moment, I wish I had a water hose. For an hour and a half, the cinema became my torture chamber. After the movie was over, me and my then girlfriend had a dinner at a fancy restaurant (where the food was great by the way.) Asked why I was scowling as I ate, I sarcastically answered, "Di lang masarap ang pagkain."

Labeling Let The Love Begin as an excellent movie is like saying Madam Auring could still get pregnant. (Ironically, it is the top grossing film on the year it was released.) The movie is fundamentally designed for people who are easily entertained. When asked about the quality of what they saw, these are the very same people who would enthusiastically attest "Ang pogi ni Richard!" or "Ang ganda ni Angel!" instead of saying their input about the film. It is a movie where you can allow the neurons in your brain to take a vacation during its entire running time. After watching Let The Love Begin, I strongly pledged never to pollute my world again with any film or tv show that contains Richard Gutierrez's disturbing performance. As for my then girlfriend who dragged me to see Let The Love Begin, I'm just glad we have already broken up before she could coerce me to see another stupid movie.

Ten Regretful Things I Shall Never Do Again In 2012

2012-01-09T15:48:00.000+07:00

Eat Street Food

I may sound like an elitist. But for the sake of my once mighty bowels, my gastronomic affair with tokneneng and other street foods has to stop. Suffering from two bouts of a ghastly acute food poisoning in 2011 alone was unimaginable. As a result of contaminated chow, I had to endure the tumultuous task of perpetually having my ass on the toilet bowl. Due to incontinence, there were instances when my underwear could even pass as a specimen for stool exam. The tokneneng may be cheap and sumptuous but my anus had enough.

Shave My Pubis

The beauty of a shaved pubis has its price: pruritus. A few days after going under the razor, the intense itch my bald crotch brings always becomes unbearable. While in public, I practically have to scratch them incognito. I'm a guy who loves to shave. I shave my mustache. I shave my chest. i shave my armpit. I shave my pubis. The only area I don't shave is my legs because it looks gay. With the discomfort I always have after shaving the area around my genitals, I'm thinking that maybe pubic hairs are not meant to be shaved.

Watch A Lady Gaga And Beyonce Music Video

For a real man, it takes a tremendous amount of bravery to listen to their songs. Moreover, it would be an amazing feat if he is able to withstand watching their music videos. With the sheer glitz and flamboyance, the videos of Lady Gaga and Beyonce serve only one purpose: to spread kabaklaan. To be exposed further to any materials coming from these two pro-gay warriors, I say it is enough.

Go To A Cheap Girlie Bar

Never again will my presence grace a second rate strip joint in Avenida. Aside from looking like chimays, the girls over there seem to have had suffered from all types of venereal disease. If only I could perform an internal examination at random, I could have discovered curd like discharges from their vagina. For health reasons, I shall never set foot again in a cheap girlie bar.

Join My Friends In A KTV Bar

The playlist of an average Filipino always has them: Bryan Adams, Michael Learns To Rock, air Supply, Barry Manilow and David Pomeranz. Most likely, someone from your group during videoke gimmick would belt out their songs. The mere thought of hearing such vile music and hating a friend who sings to them are enough reasons for me to turn down any invitation to go to a ktv bar.

Be Concerned With Comments And "Likes"

This year, I shall fully accept the fact that I cannot compete with an attractive girl in Facebook and blogosphere no matter how smart and socially relevant my post is. Whether it is her garment deficient photos or her frivolous self centered message, her posts would always commensurate with tons of reactions. After all, we live in a superficial world.

Stare At Breasts

... or any erotic part of a woman's anatomy. For fear of being mistaken as a pervert, I shall refrain from carrying out this precarious activity. It seems not everyone is amenable to my reason for doing so. That is, my fondness for looking at them is purely clinical.

Dream Of Having A Six Pack

Because it means a life devoid of food, t o entertain the idea of having a chiseled abdomen is out of the question for 2012. Instead, I shall boast of my one pack abs. I shall proudly declare my 34 inch waistline as the house that lechon built.

Watch Another Unfunny YouTube Video From A Pseudo Celebrity

The celebrity wanna be's who upload their boring skits and monologues. The childish adults who lip synch while contorting their faces. The jejemons who engage in a rap battle using their potty mouths. YouTube has become a haven for these untalented fame seekers. Though enjoyed by those who are easily amused, I find their videos not entertaining, at times annoying. To watch another material from these YouTube pseudo celebrities is like heeding to their greed for attention.

Blog About Kris Aquino

Her character and antics may still be intolerable. Yet I realized that my half a decade long black propaganda against Kris has become inversely proportional with her commercial success. Neither talented nor beautiful, the enigmatic spell she cast on millions of Filipinos is truly baffling. No matter what, they would buy what she sells. Therefore, I concede. In 2012, I shall never write anything about Kris Aquino... unless she reveals she contacted another STD.

Inside The Mind Of An Abused Child

2012-01-04T09:57:00.000+07:00

This is the case of a 6 year old female patient who was rushed to the ER due to a gaping wound in the head. Her massively bleeding injury was inflicted by her own mother. Such abuse was not the first time, for it has been years of torture at the very hands of her own flesh and blood.

It was late morning when a young girl was accompanied by a barangay captain to the ER. The child's head was wrapped around with a Good Morning towel. The bimpo was soaked in crimson blood.

"Pakitingnan po, hinataw kasi ng itak ng sarili nyang ina," the barangay official revealed.

"Grabe talaga ina nito! Di na naawa sa anak nya. Di na nadala... hinuli na dati yun sa pang-mamaltrato nya," he added.

Upon examination, a 2.5 inch deep lacerated wound was noted on the skull's occipital region. It was bleeding profusely. Hematomas possibly from whipping were also seen on both her upper ad lower extremities. Suturing was immediately done. The young girl was a brave one. Despite every deep penetration of the surgical needle, she did not act like a cry baby. Afterwards, she recieved her tetanus shots. While the patient was being subjected to a skull xray, the barangay official left the hospital to refer the patient to their local DSWD. It was a sigh of relief when the xray revealed no skull fracture.

A few hours have passed and the patient was still all by her lonesome at the ER. It was past lunch time so I bought her a lunch from the carinderia. While feeding, I curiously asked the poor girl what happened. Apparently, the child was beaten down by a walis tambo by her irked mother after she accidentally spilled the coffee she was drinking. The child's incessant crying all the more made the mother snapped. She then struck an itak against her daughter's skull. This resulted to a nasty cut that bled heavily. The ghastly sight of which terrified the mother, leaving her hapless daughter to escape prosecution. The neighbors were the ones who bought the girl to the barangay hall, thus, this consult.

"Madalas ka bang saktan ng nanay mo?" I questioned the patient.

"Opo," she hesitantly answered.

"Anu-anong mga ginagawa sa yong pananakit?" I further investigated.

"Madalas po nikakakandado. Pinapaso... binubuhusan po ng kape. Di pinapakain. Nisasampal... binubugbog. Hinahataw ng walis.” the teary eyed child revealed.

Those were some of the young girl's shocking revelations. True enough, her body showed evidences of scars from years of torture and punishment.

Straight from the book of Boy Abunda and his imaginary mirror, I directed the overused cheesy showbiz talk show question to the patient, "Kung andyan ang nanay mo sa harap mo ngayon, anong mensahe mo para sa kanya?"

"Wala po," she softly responded.

"Gusto mo ba syang makulong sa ginawa nya sa yo?" I followed up.

"Di po. Nanay ko po sya. Mahal ko pa rin po sya, " she replied as she shed tears from her eyes.

There is nothing I despise more in this world than abuse against children. Whether physical or sexual, it would always leave a lifetime emotional scar on these young victims, all the more if such abuse was caused by the very people who should love and take care of them. For the un-motherly beastly demeanor, it's so surreal how the child never let herself be consumed by hatred. She learned how to forgive her mother in an instant despite the suffering she was inflicted upon. Perhaps, it's what we were told in the Bible. Be forgiving. Be child-like. And whoever humbles himself like a little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

Almost Dying On Christmas Day

2011-12-28T09:31:00.000+07:00

This is a case of the 34 year old male patient who was rushed to the ER due to difficulty in breathing with altered sensorium. It was a fight for his life and it was a time when I was caught empty handed as I try to save him from an impeding death without any aid. That unforgettable day happened on Christmas.

The emergency room looked practically like a ghost town. With no patient seeking consult or being treated, the ER nurse had opted to step out of the hospital for awhile saying she has a sudden errand to do at her nearby home. The nursing aide and janitor haven't arrived yet, possibly dead asleep from the previous night's Christmas eve celebration. I was basically all alone. Suddenly a man accompanied by a taxi driver was rushed inside the ER. The man was holding on to his chest, breathing heavily. He was gasping for air. He was restless. He appeared pale. He had cold clammy skin.

I immediately asked the driver, "Ano hong nangyari sa kanya?"

"Di ko ho alam. Nakita ko lang ho sa kalye na ganyan siya. Nagmagandang-loob lang ako na dalhin dito," replied the cab driver.

After putting an oxygen hood to the patient and hooking him to an IV fluid, I turned back to ask the cab driver for more info but he was already nowhere to be found.

I tried to talk sense out of the patient, "Tay, ano hong nangyari sa inyo?"

He could barely speak. All I heard were inaudible sounds. His dyspnea was becoming more intense. He was sweating profusely. His left arm was trying to reach out to me as if he was drowning. I was faced with the dilemma of being alone with no nurse to assist me and with no patient companion to extract history from that could aid in the diagnosis and treatment.

I was thinking of a severe asthma attack or a pleural effusion (tubig sa baga) but his lungs were clear on stethoscope. I was presuming it was cardiogenic in origin, probably an MI (heart attack) but his BP and ECG were normal, aside from the fact that the patient was young. I was speculating of an acute hyperventilation syndrome or a toxic aberration but there was no easy way to find out. I felt like I was in Jeopardy thinking of the right answer to a question that offer little clue where a further waste of time could be detrimental. The patient was becoming more tremulous. His whole body began rapidly shaking. His aura exhibited the face of someone about to meet his impending doom.

In a snap, like a divine intervention, I figured that it might be a metabolic complication. I thought of running an RBS test (random blood sugar testing through finger prick) on the patient. After doing so, the result yielded 20 mg/dl, an abnormally low blood sugar level that could fatally lead to a coma any moment. It occurred to me that the patient was experiencing hypoglycemic shock (a fatal complication of low blood sugar level.) Immediately, I administered a glucose solution intravenously to the patient. It was like magic. What was once an agitated man had relatively regained his normal self as if a demon was exorcised out of his body ala Linda Blair.

"Ano ho bang nangyari sa inyo?" I curiously asked the patient.

Still catching his breath, the patient explained, "Nasobrahan ho ata ako sa pagturok ng insulin. Diabetic po kasi ako."

Apparently, patient is a type I diabetic who miscalculated his insulin intake, overdosing himself. He was waiting for a ride home coming from a visit to his inaanak when the symptoms appeared. The patient was admitted. His relatives were notified. It was late afternoon when a young girl handed me a box of donuts.

"Dok, tenkyu po at merry krismas daw sabi ng papa ko," the girl who is the daughter of my type 1 diabetic patient said.

As I came to see the said patient at the ward to thank him for the donuts, I saw a happy image of his family: the patient with his wife and his daughter cheerfully conversing with each other. For the father, he probably received the best Christmas gift from God, a second chance in life to be with his family. Back in my quarter, I was thinking that I may have probably received a meaningful Christmas gift: getting to see the joy in the faces of my patient and his family after that close call.

My Christmas Wish For Other People

2011-12-24T09:47:00.000+07:00

I wish for the celebrity obsessed Filipinos to be not gullible. You need not support every non-singing movie star who comes out with an album.

I wish for the smokers to love their halitosis causing vice wholeheartedly. Refrain from popping a gum or candy after smoking. Doing so is like resenting the odor of the person you just had sex with.

I wish for those with cool gadgets not to put any vile sentimental songs into their pricey phones and music players. What's the use of having the latest BlackBerry and iPhone if you have the taste of a jejemon.

I wish for the DSLR owners not to treat their camera like an expensive necklace. When not taking pictures, do not carry it around your neck for the purpose of bragging.

I wish for the consumers to be smart and unique. Just because everyone has a fake Angry Birds t-shirt, a counterfeit Beats headset, and a copycat branded wristwatch, you also have to buy them.

I wish for the moviegoers not to over hype a mediocre film they just saw. More so, never equate it with the physical attributes of its lead star: "Ang ganda ng movie! Ang guwapo ni Edward!"

I wish for the motorcycle riders to treat their bikes like any other vehicle. When on the road, avoid being an asshole.

I wish for women with handbags to never consider the hand sanitizer bottle as a bag accessory.

I wish for girls who are in love to be modest. There is really no need for us to see those private and intimate pictures of you and your half naked boyfriend on Facebook.

I wish for the kids from rich families to get rid of their obnoxious elitist accent when conversing in English.

I wish for the audience who enjoys flip top rap battles to realize that there is no redeeming value from watching two foul mouthed jejemon rappers who are trying to annoy each other.

I wish for the vampire novelists and screen writers to cease from degrading the image of the vampire into love sick fools. They should be evil and merciless.

I wish for the security guards not to be fickle minded. Either you enforce a real strict security measure or settle on the usual ritual of merely poking our bags.

I wish for the taxi drivers to accommodate every passenger who flag them down. "Trapik dun" or "Di dun ang daan ko" should never be used as an excuse.

I wish for the football crazy Filipinos to not let their admiration be dictated by mere nationalist pride, media hype and good looks but by true athletic skills.

I wish for the texters to be responsible. SMS containing the words "Please pass" should never be sent.

I wish for the self important Facebook user not to be too self absorbed. It's normal to post about something other than yourselves.

I wish for the students not to review their lessons at Starbucks. Those who do flunk their exams.

I wish for the young people with tattoos to consider mercy killing before they turn old. No tattoo looks good on a lolo or lola.

I wish for those who have a shameless habit of asking "Pamasko ko?" to remember that the act of getting gifts is done passively not aggressively. But I do understand that greed could be overwhelming.

The Metro Manila Film PESTE-val

2011-12-21T09:38:00.000+07:00

As a cinema lover, there is no greater pain when you're unwillingly assaulted with redundant, brain cell depleting, crappy movies for a two week period. It's like a PETA member being forced to watch an animal cruelty video. It's like Maricar Reyes doing a movie marathon of her sex tapes against her will. It's like a homophobic tough guy being subjected to view one whole season of Project Runway, much to his chagrin. Perhaps, it's the moral defect among film procducers that they tend to care less in offering quality movies as long as they reap lots of moolah. In their book, what is most important is to earn millions at the expense of a fanatical audience. Perhaps, it's the movie going public whose simplified disposition in life makes them not worry in wasting money on movies with no redeeming values. After all, it's Christmas. Ok lang ang gumastos. Perhaps, both. It sends shudders of fear to my heart that this tradition may go on til the day I age, when my testicles already hang like a wizard's sleeves. It has been my fervent wish that the MMFF be contaminated no more with Mother Lily and her sequels of Shake, Rattle and Roll and Mano Po plus movies featuring Bong Revilla, Vic Sotto, Ai Ai delas Alas and Kris Aquino.

First, lets talk about Mother Lily Monteverde. The MMFF should be likewise called the Mother Lily Film Festival for the sole reason that the entries are usually dominated by movies produced by the said film matriarch. Regarding her seemingly endless Shake, Rattle and Roll and Mano Po film franchises, somebody should tell Mother Lily to stop. It has come to the point that they are already annoying more than entertaining. For their utter repetitiveness, usual smorgasbord casts and shallow storylines, anyone who up to this day is avidly following the said sequels should have his head examined.

Concerning Bong Revilla, the actor senator has been infesting the MMFF with his presence yearly without fail. Even those with thick Neanderthal skulls can easily detect that his entries were mostly rip-offs of big budgeted US blockbuster motion pictures. Remember Resiklo, an obvious copycat of Transformers? How bout Exodus which was ridiculously patterned after The Lord Of The Rings? The Senator often boasts of their "Hollywood-like" special effects when in fact they were merely synonymous to the computer graphics I see among online games. For pestering us with time wasting fantasy flicks with subliminal plots, Bong Revilla should rest for awhile and rethink about his life.

Though I have high regards for Vic Sotto, the same old formulaic theme on his movies should cease to exist. We have grown tired of his customary fantasy adventure movie featuring him, a leading lady that could pass as his daughter (though this year it is Ai Ai), a side kick for added comic relief, and of course his son Oyo Boy (laging kasama yun eh.) Last year, it was a joint venture with Bong Revilla. Now, it's Enteng Ng Ina Mo. With his growing habit of movie tie ins with other familiar film fest entries, it seems Vic Sotto is making a mockery out of us.

If not infesting our television sets with her presence and her creepy son Baby James, a horror movie featuring Kris Aquino is always included in this annual festival. Despite the lack of talent as an actress, her previous movies have reaped millions in the box office. For supporting her despite the numerous scandals and misdemeanors, Filipinos are to be blamed for what she has become... a monster. Kris Aquino is a real life horror movie... our own Frankenstein.

My amazing level of tolerance has reached its peak. I cannot endure anymore imbecilic movies, self important and greedy movie producers and actors, and bureaucratic film fest organizers. I find it annoying that these people who are far richer than I am are appealing to my good nature to support Filipino movies, especially come MMFF. They have the nerve to charge P150 for me to sit through two hours of cinematic garbage. About a decade ago, I remember watching a decent entry at the MMFF. It was Jose Rizal. It was the top grossing movie of that year's festivities, yet it was a very good film. Yeah sure, some may say that the event is all about the children or it's the only time that the local film industry is able to generate money. Then, we might as well give another name for the MMFF, the Money Making Fantasy Filmfest.

The Monologue Of Ruffa Gutierrez

2011-12-17T09:50:00.000+07:00

Grabe! I'm finally home! I'm so damn tired. I just came from a long taping. It's such a grueling task being in showbiz you know. Shocks! My feet hurt so much from the Chanel shoes I bought from Paris. That's why I took some pain relievers stored from my Louis Vuitton bag. Grabe! Just this morning, Mommy and I had another argument. She always makes pakialm my freakin' life. She has been doing this since my days with Dennis Da Silva, Zoren Legaspi and Robin Padilla. I wonder when she will stop. God! I'm already on my 30's with two kids. Maybe she think I'm still a teenybopper kolehiyala because of my high pitched, sophisticated, demure and maarte tone of voice. Well, Mommy should know that I am the Ruffa Gutierrez, a queen when it comes to reinventing oneself. I once crushed my involvement in the Filmfest "Take It Take It!" Scam and Bruneiyuki Scandal into oblivion when I won 2nd Princess of Miss World by merely quoting a line from the book The Little Prince. Hahaha! Grabe! Those judges were easy to impress. Then, after several years of absence from show business, I made a successful comeback by making my domestic problem with Ylmaz a media funfare and public spectacle. Paki ba nila! I wanna be in the limelight again. And I wanna be the Princess Diana of the Philippines. That's why I keep on organizing those charity events for the poor. So, Mommy, don't meddle. I can handle my own life na.

Speaking of my mom, Annabelle Rama, even though we don't see eye to eye that much, I still love her to death.The one thing I hate most about her though--- she seems to be ganging up on someone whenever she appears on tv. Grabe! All these years, I've been advising her to tone down her war freak nature. And what's up with her habit of calling everyone "Day" or "Dong?" It's so kadiri! There are times that even I, a Miss World 2nd Princess, she would inadvertently call "Day." As a matter of fact, yesterday morning, she woke me up by saying "Hoy, day! Gumising ka na dyan!" Yuck! Mommy is so jologs! And I hope she will stop referring to me as Rofa. It's Ruffa with a "u." C'mon, Mom, you have a bunch of sosyal English speaking children you know.

Obviously, Mommy's favorite among us is Richard Gutierrez. Just last week, he filed a complaint against a showbiz website. I'm supporting him 100%. I dunno with these press people trying to disdain the squeaky clean image of my kid brother. This is the second time that they have implicated him to be allegedly involve in a gun toting incident. They should know who they are dealing with. He is Richard Gutierrez---Mr. Mulawin, Mr. Captain Barbell, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Asero, and Mr. Zorro (Shocks! He's been too much in fantaseryes.) Yeah, yeah, critics say that me and Richard are not harboring the great acting skills of our dad Eddie Gutierrez. They say our thespian skills are lame and lackluster. Well, screw those critics! As far as I'm concerned, my brother's acting is just what I call unorthodox. He's not robotic 'no! What's wrong ba with constantly flexing his eyebrows in close proximity while making pungay his eyes all throughout his teleserye or movie. It sends her fans into kilig frenzy. And what's wrong ba with him having a facial expression of someone who just smelled a fart during heavy dramatic scenes? Basta, for me, Richard is my best actor. Sa kin ata nagmana yan.

I've been bothered recently by my other kid brother, Raymond Gutierrez, when it comes to carrying himself. With those fedoras, bling blings, showls, and layerings, Raymond seems to be preoccupied too much with fashion and vanity. Sya na nga nakakaubos ng ineendorse kong Methatione. And the way he speaks--- he is beginning to sound like me. Grabe! I'm starting to have a doubt on his sexual orientation. I'm still ashamed to confront him though. But one thing I always remind him is his weight. Shocks! He's so mataba na. I told him to lose those fats. Being in showbiz, one has to look good. So, Raymond, you better work it out sister, este, brother!

That's all for now. I need to go to bed. I have to get up early. Tomorrow's call time is 5am. Hay naku. I have to wake up earlier than my mom before she gets to call me out once again saying, "Hoy Day. Gumising ka na!" I hate that expression of hers. Grabe!

Thank God For Gays

2011-12-13T10:19:00.000+07:00

Thank God for gays. Singers like Celine Dion, Mariah Carey, Regine Velasquez and Charice Pempengco became icons of the entertainment industry. If not for gays, inflicting torture to one's larynx may never be a measure of musical greatness.

Thank God for gays. Chika, churva, korak and other silly neologisms are now part of the modern day Filipino language.

Thank God for gays. We get our regular dose of celebrity chismis. Imagine life without Boy Abunda, Ricky Lo, Nelson Canlas, Lar Santiago, Mario Dumawal and Raymond Gutierrez. It would be boring.

Thank God for gays, most notably those working at parlors and salons. One will never experience a bad hair day.

Thank God for gays. We know what to wear every coming year with their annual fashion forecasts. Some of which were skinny jeans, showls, and up turned collars.

Thank God for gays. A guy may not opt to go solo in attending his gym. Enter: a gym buddy.

Thank God for gays. Whenever we need our fix of Miss Universe and Bb Pilipinas trivia and info, we have people we can rely on.

Thank God for gays, old medyas can still serve a purpose. Aside from covering our feet, socks (the rolled up ones) can also function as a makeshift boobies for less fortunate gays who cannot afford to have breast augmentation.

Thank God for gays, we have prolific call center agents.

Thank God for gays, the Sam and Piolo concert was conceptualized.

Thank God for gays, the mobile phones of some men will never run out of credit. With just one text away, some guys who are into pamamakla can depend upon gays who offer their unconditional love for a cellphone load. By sending the message Bro, padalhan mo naman ako ng load sa number na 'to, the joy and benefit of pasaload can be quickly achieved.

Thank God for gays, we can enjoyably watch our female pop icons get impersonated.

Thank God for gays. Synthetic estrogens have found another use aside from contraception and correcting female hormonal imbalance.

Thank God for gays. We have people who serve as back up dancers. Production numbers on tv will never be as grand without those gays doing the chores of tossing and lifting the celebrity while dancing.

Thank God for gays. Entertainment establishments such as Chicos and Club 690 were built and have become historical landmarks in the Philippines.

Thank God for gays. We have prolific tv directors who meg those primetime teleseryes. Viewers shall never run out of their daily dose of shouting, crying and bitch slapping.

Thank God for gays. Long forgotten celebrities can resurrect their careers just by coming out of their once hidden homosexuality.

Thank God for gays. Men who are in dire need of money or who are just plain horny have some place to go... to those old, poorly ventilated and bug infested theaters.

Thank God for gays. Men who are astigin can instantly lose their stamina and become powerless at the hands (and mouths) of gays. As the tambays in our area would mockingly tease the gay hairdressers: Bakla, nangunguha ng lakas!

Thank God for gays. Humans have discovered another use for their anus.

The Erotic Jeepney Ride Incident

2011-12-09T09:48:00.000+07:00

The dark sky above forecasted a bad weather ahead. Branches of the surrounding trees swayed to the direction of the gusty wind. Amidst the carbon monoxide that would engulf my respiratory tract, I still decided to take a jeepney to where I was going. A jeep stopped over at the waiting shed where I was standing. Noticing it as rusty and seemed to be older than I am, I chose to let it pass. I still value my life and would want to reach an age where I would have an enlarged prostate. After all, it was a holiday. Most public utility vehicles were half empty with passengers. So I had the luxuxry to be picky with my ride.

Finally, a decent looking jeepney halted in front of me. Embarking in the said vehicle, I saw that there were only two passengers--- a manang with a bayong and a man in a necktie. With a large briefcase on his lap, the man in a necktie, probably in his late 30s, appeared uneasy and awkward. When our ride passed through a rough terrain, the briefcase almost accidentally dropped from his lap, uncovering what he was hiding--- his right hand on his half exposed fully erected penis. The guy was apparently engaged in some hand relief effort in a not so private manner. Ashamed that I was able to view his genital in an agitated state, he instantly disembarked. Manang with a bayong became terribly appalled by the self employed sex she just witnessed.

"Grabe naman ang mamang yun. Napaka-manyakis. Dapat dun magpatingin," uttered the senile lady while doing the sign of the cross.

Manang was right. The man was sick. He should have his head examined by a shrink before his public display of masturbation escalate to something worse. Two young lovers flagged our jeepney. Sitting beside the driver, the teen couple immediately went into a playfully naughty mode. Their antics included the boy teasefully pinching his girlfriend on the unimaginable areas of her body. In turn, the young girl resorted to kinky giggles while saying "Ano ba" with matchinghampas to her boyfriend. Such sight added to the disgust of manang with a bayong. I virtually saw her aged further before my eyes. Expressing a frown that remarkably disfigured her already wrinkled face, manang asked the driver to stop and eventually she got off. She probably had enough.

The jeepney driver inserted a cassette into his tape deck to play some music. The tune that emanated from the speakers was "Dayang Dayang." Strange, for I thought all along that the said imbecilic song had already gone into extinction along with "Aringkingking." Apparently, our driver still had the last copy of that record. After the song was over, he switched to an fm radio station. Thereafter, I concluded that the driver probably just wanted to listen to "Dayang Dayang" to complete his day.

On the next stop, our vehicle almost became full with commuters from a nearby church. In front of me sat a metrosexual guy wearing heavily tinted sunglasses, despite the absence of the sun. Acting like a tough guy, he positioned himself with his legs wide open as if he had a massive hernia. Sporting a badly rebonded emo hairstyle, he was clad in a body hugging sando, probably to show off his muscular physique. Based on his built and the Fitness First bag he was carrying, the guy was indirectly bragging of him being a gym buff.

"You Belong With Me" by teen country popstar Taylor Swift was heard suddenly over the radio. I was stunned when the metrosexual gym buff sang along. I began to assess his masculinity as questionable. For no real man will sing to a Taylor Swift song, much more in public. He implicated himself further when he started tapping his legs while singing, like the way that other Cueshe vocalist does. It was obvious--- the metrosexual gym buff was really enjoying the teenybopper slash gay song. The Sheryn Regis remake of "Comin Out Of The Rain" was played next. Upon hitting the song's chorus, I was totally, absolutely and completely petrified when the metrosexual gym buff sang in an atrocious birit style. He was like being sodomized for the first time.

In my deepest and darkest thoughts, I shrieked in indignation, "Hayop! Sabi na nga ba...Baklaaaa!"

Listening to him up close rendered me great pain and suffering. He sounded like Franklin Drilon under estrogen. The metrosexual gym buff, with that ludicrous act of his, must have forgotten to take his medicine. Thankfully, a pretty chinky eyed kolehiyala went aboard our jeep and sat beside me. Her damp shoulder length hair suggested that she just came from a shower. Her baby cologne smell spread like wildfire. Wearing a preshrunk tee with her school's name on it and sexy shorts, she received sexually corrupted stares from the other male passengers. It was an ordinary day that time but it became Christmas for perverts. Getting the best view among others, I was helplessly drawn top her extremely short lower garment which eventually led me to a shortness of breath. Even our driver, obvious from the glances he was taking at his rear view mirror, became hormonally disturbed from ogling at the chinita in intimate apparel. A few blocks after, the kolehiyala signaled the driver to stop (or as the way she have said it,"Para. Manong Driver.") With our chauffeur losing his concentration on driving, it was best that she got off the vehicle. Pleasing as she was to the eyes, but with that near naked clothing of hers, she became a danger to the community.

After almost an hour of inhaling vehicular emissions and dusts clogging my pores, I arrived safely at my destination. The aforementioned ride had me thinking: God bless the jeepneys. For being the cheapest mode of transportation. For boosting my immunity from the toxic air I get to breathe while traveling. And for the strange, the funny, the sexy, the scary and the interesting that I have the opportunity to witness first hand.

In Honor Of Mahal

2011-12-05T09:39:00.000+07:00

In the world of strange looking celebrities, there is no one like Mahal. Born with a condition called dwarfism, she made her mark in local showbiz like no other famous gnomes. Forget about Weng Weng, Dagul and Mura. In my book, Mahal is the prototype of the midget celebrity. Unlike other pint sized movie stars, she possesses an impeccable charm. With her mischievous smile and funny speech impediment, Mahal could instantly floor her audience with laughter. Despite being in her 30's, many still treat her like a little child. Who wouldn't? Aside from her miniature stature, Mahal delightfully exudes a cute and bubbly child-like personality. She is like a pet from Tiendesitas who everyone wants to take home. Apart from her never boring character, Mahal is fierce. Having a knack for self promotion, she got involved in some of the strangest controversies there are.

Aside from her team up with fellow midget Mura, Mahal is notorious for her affiliation with normal sized men. After a prolonged period of absence, Mahal suddenly resurfaced, surprising everyone with her outrageous claim that she and a male starlet named Jimboy were having an affair. With their notable size difference, the Jimboy-Mahal tandem immediately gained public attention. Making the rounds of talk shows, the audience became witnesses to their public display of affection (and sometimes creepiness). During every interview, Jimboy habitually serenaded Mahal and the eerie couple habitually locked lips thereafter. While I have not been myself since seeing that travesty, there is no denying that what they did was monumental on Philippine television.

Sadly, Mahal and Jimboy did not part ways amicably. Rather, they became bitter enemies. After their team up fizzled, Mahal hooked up with other young and more good looking men. "Waya na chi Jimboy. May Jiro nya ko, " she once claimed. Deeply insulted, Jimboy accused Mahal of being a user and a two timer. As a woman scorned, Mahal retaliated by declaring that Jimboy is gay. Adding more insult to injury, Mahal came out with an anti-Jimboy novelty song entitled Ayoko Na Sa Yo. On the said track, Mahal sang: "Piolo Piolo I like you. Aga Aga I love you. Jimboy Jimboy I hate you. Eh kasi naman niloloko mo ako / lalake ang gusto mo." With his pride and dignity shattered, Jimboy threatened legal action. With their ugly feud intensifying, Mahal guested on The Buzz. Sounding like an angry chipmunk, Mahal vented her frustration in public: "Itaw Jimboy ah. Matinig ka cha chachabihin ko. Chumochobra ta na, Jimboy ah!" As a fan, it hurt me to see Mahal in such state, not of harboring too much pain but for sounding gibberish. On that interview, I barely understood what she said. Though it may seem futile, there is nothing I wish more in this world than to have both of them reconcile.

Perhaps what was more shocking than her lascivious affairs with normal men is when her video scandal got leaked. All in her naked glory, Mahal was cam corded while taking a bath using a tabo. As if it was the hottest commodity, every mobile phone user wanted to procure the 20 second video recording via bluetooth. Everyone was interested in taking a peek at Mahal's glorious mammaries which appeared smaller than those of my pregnant cat. In the said scandal, Mahal seemed brazen and without shame even posing like an FHM model. Strangely, our enterprising Muslim brothers made copies of Mahal's video, eventually entitled Mahalay, to sell them like they were porn. With this, I shudder at the mere thought of a guy buying a copy and pleasuring herself at the sight of a wet and nude Mahal. That is not just right.

Truly, big things come in small packages. In an industry where beautiful people dominate, Mahal curved her niche. She is one of the few who could claim versatility. An actress. A tv host. A comedian. A singer. For this, Mahal is a legend in her own right. Aside from being multi -talented, she is the only midget who had snagged more men than anyone. This, despite having a face that resembles a pug. Admittedly, Mahal is my beacon of happiness. With her usual incomprehensible chipmunk-like manner of talking, I experienced an overwhelming joy. Everytime Mahal dispenses her infectious laughter, I laugh with her. For everything she has done (except for her disturbing video), I thank God for Mahal.

Another Starbucks Incident

2011-12-03T09:49:00.000+07:00

More than the overpriced beverages, my primary purpose for dining at Starbucks, if I have the opportunity to do so, is to observe the many people infesting the establishment. One time, I opted to spend my afternoon at the said coffee place. As always, I just ordered one drink which I practically consumed for the next two hours while keenly observing the behavior of my fellow diners. Being a Holiday, the venue was packed with customers eager to satisfy either their caffeine cravings or their social climbing instincts. When I entered, there was already a short queue forming at the counter.

Before me at the line was a white haired man probably in his 60's wearing earphones while texting. I inadvertently looked at the sms he was typing which goes " D2 n me sa Starbuckz. Txt u n lang wen ur hir na." with a smiley face after. I was amazed when he took out his Ipod Touchto choose from the songlist. I became more astonished to see lolo picked Coldplay to listen to. Apparently, despite his age, lolo has more class and taste than my older brother, who I have long disowned for being an Air Supply fan.

After getting my order, I chose to settle at a table near the door, a short distance away from where the groovy lolo was. Two celebrities entered Starbucks. They were Raymond Gutierrezand Bubbles Paraiso. After awhile of waiting for their beverages, Raymond told Bubbles in a highly accentuated manner, "Can you tell them to hurry up. We still have a movie to catch." As I looked at Raymond, I remembered back in grade school when I used to watch him together with his twin brother Richard as the cute and chubby child stars of the comedy movie Kambal Tuko. Raymond's chubbiness has obviously lasted his entire lifetime. Wearing a skinny jeans, a coat over his shirt, and a showl around his neck, I thought Raymond was a little overdressed for the occasion. From the way he talked and dressed, it made more suspicious of his true gender. That is, aside from the fact that he was never romantically linked with a girl and that his group of friends are mostly females. Though, my colleague who is a rampant chismosa had told me that Raymond has Tim Yap for a guy best friend. Yet, having Tim Yap as your only guy friend is like putting a tattoo on your forehead that says "I'm Gay!"

A young professional looking guy sat near my table and started working with some charts on his laptop. Bored for awhile, I took out Shossana, my pink colored music player (named after a character from my favorite movie last year, Inglourious Basterds) to listen to Megadeth to introduce melodic chaos to my eardrums. A few minutes later, I noticed the said yuppie looking at me like a paranoid. I found it odd that he had put his arm in a position to widely obstruct the screen of his laptop from other people's vantage point. After coming back from a leak at the restroom, I caught the guy off guard. Apparently, he was viewing a pornographic material from his laptop. But more surprisingly, what I saw as a young muscular Caucasian guy masturbating on top of a lababo. Then his mobile phone suddenly rang. "Tol, andun lang yung folder sa top ng table ko. Atsaka, tol, pakidala pala yung annual report bukas. Thanks, tol!" the guy with a laptop relayed in his deep manly voice to the person on the other line. For a brief moment, my body became numb. I was paralyzed with shock.

She was like a fresh blossoming flower in a garden during a bright sunny day. Donning a colorful dress with a little cleavage showing, a young girl sat in a table in front of me. She was busy texting while sipping her frap. I presumed she was barely legal, maybe more or less 18. When our eyes met, she flashed her lovely smile. I was confused. It was either she liked me or she thought I'm her dad's friend. Then I observed that lolo from before was staring at her. He was giving her the look of a DOM in action. I could not blame lolo. With her mestisa features and curly locks, the girl was indeed very attractive.

In an utter display of over confidence, the old man sat in the table with the young mestisa and initiated a conversation with her. "Do you want something to go with your drink?" I overheardlolo asked her. They talked for awhile. After answering a call, it was too bad lolo had to leave his prospect for a prior appointment. Before going, lolo exchanged phone numbers with the pretty lass. It had me thinking, despite probably having an enlarged prostate, lolo was still a ladies' man. When lolo passed by me to exit to the door, I could not help but comment out loud, "Idol!"

Every tables and couches became filled with customers. Yet, some people still did insist on dining in. Carrying around their ordered meals, a group of women had a problem finding seats. Despite having seen that the seating capacity was full beforehand, it made me wonder why these people still want to settle for Starbucks to eat. The scenario highly reminded me of the many children with their mommies waiting to be served at a full housed Jollibee after a Sunday mass. I guess stubbornness also runs among adults when it comes to Starbucks.

I saw that the young professional guy with a laptop had ceased in guarding the screen of his laptop from view of others. He was now watching clips of live concerts from YouTube. With his headset on, he was enjoyably viewing Dione Warwick singing That's What Friends Are For. He was singing along occasionally especially during the chorus part. Maybe it was the sound from his headset masking the voluminous of his voice, he was unaware that he was already bugging the other diners with his singing. For his shameless in store performance, unknown to him, he was being stared at and becoming a laughing stock by the other customers. I could not stand seeing him suffer further so I had no choice but to leave prematurely. For instead of Dione Warwick, he sounded and looked more like Dione War Freak.

25 Commandments Of A Decent Man

2011-11-29T15:14:00.000+07:00

1. Thou shall not listen to Kpop. With such genre plagued with chicks and boys who look like chicks, it is synonymous to gay pop.

2. Thou shall not replace "ako" with "me" and "ikaw" with "u". Text messages containing such is not decent for a man.

3. Thou shall not wear baggy clothes. Any shirt or jeans that could fit a small mammal in should just be left to Snoop Dog and company.

4. Thou shall not read Harry Potter and Twilight. Leave those shit to kids.

5. Thou shall not don a duck face or any anime pose when taking pictures. It does not look cute.

6. Thou shall not carry your girlfriend's bag while strolling at the mall. There are other ways of becoming a gentleman other than looking like a gay alalay.

7. Thou shall not hum or sing along with Lady Gaga or Taylor Swift in public. Leave those shit to kids.

8. Thou shall not scream at the sight of ipis and daga. A real man's first reaction is to annihilate them.

9. Thou shall not wear sun glasses while indoors. Only three types of men are allowed to do it: a blind person, a celebrity and an asshole.

10. Thou shall not declare yourself as a metrosexual. Anyone who is preoccupied with clothes, accessories, and hairstyle is definitely a latent homosexual.

11. Thou shall not put powder and perfume in front of many people. Even Brock Lesnar would look gay if he pull this stunt.

12. Thou shall not watch Glee. For a tv show that features high school students singing other people's songs, it is not a suitable consumption for an adult man.

13. Thou shall not sport a "hati sa gitna" hair do... unless you're still a big fan of Keempee De Leon and The Guwapings from the 90s.

14. Thou shall not indulge in a no meat diet. Eating mainly veggies and fruits is for pussies.

15. Thou shall not carry a clutch bag... unless you have a gun in it.

16. Thou shall not engage in a shopping spree. Real men buy their clothes one piece at a time.

17. Thou shall not wear basketball shoes and tsinelas as casual wear. Their rightful places belong to the hard court and house respectively.

18. Thou shall not cross dress during a costume party and cosplay event... unless you're being paid to do so.

19. Thou shall not utter "yuck" at the sight of something gross. Even Paquito Diaz (SLN) would sound gay if he pull this stunt.

20. Thou shall offer his seat in the bus and MRT only to senior citizens, handicaps, pregnant ladies and gorgeous women. Ugly girls need not expect much.

21. Thou shall not wear a bluetooth dongle in your ear. Such device had only two purposes: for convenience and to make you look stupid.

22. Thou shall not sucker punch an opponent. Real men fight face to face.

23. Thou shall not watch a teleserye... unless you want to develop a brain like a chicken's.

24. Thou shall possess the latest scandals in your mobile phone for quick access whenever the need arises.

25. Thou shall not assign a hideous name for your pet dog. From a magazine, I've read that Sam Milby named his canine as Gucci. Deep inside, I know his dog hates him for it.

In Honor Of Annabelle Rama

2011-11-26T09:24:00.000+07:00

I confess, I'm a big fan of Annabelle Rama. My admiration for her is so high, I'm willing to vote for her in the FHM 100 Sexiest Women Of 2011 poll. Being her fan may sound strange to many. After all, an adult male being fascinated with a ferocious stage mother who is a known war freak is truly perplexing. My friends would frequently ask --- Why not a beautiful young actress or a seasoned actor? Unlike many other celebrities, Annabelle Rama is larger than life. In the world she lives in called showbiz, no one dares cross her path. Her mere presence is domineering. When she talks, everyone listens. When she is scorned, even hell has no place for the object of her frustration. But beyond this menacing facade, I find Annabelle Rama somewhat lovable and most of the time, effortlessly funny.

Unknown to many, Annabelle Rama is a former sexy star. As a neophyte actress, she made a few daring skin flicks during the 70's. Thankfully, she is already retired. Imagine the horror if she continues undressing for a living up to this day. Now more famous for being a talent agent and of course a maternal showbiz figure, Annabelle Rama is best remembered for her series of fierce and pugnacious public interviews. Every time she appears on television, one expects a contemptuous combative stance courtesy of Annabelle Rama. Whether in defense of herself or her family, she yields to no one. Some call her a war monger. In contrast, I just regard her as a passionate woman. In relation to her perpetually violent behavior, I seem to have discovered some redeeming values from it.

People are probably asking where does her "anger" come from. Is it because her husband is a habitual womanizer in the past? Or is it because one of her sons is a latent homosexual? (My vote goes for the latter.) Whatever the answer maybe, Annabelle Rama has shown to us that she is an epitome of a strong woman. A trait which is lacking in many Filipinas as they are more known to be passive and sacrificial. Thus, Annabelle Rama has bestowed upon the weaklings the inspiration to fight for your right.

Besides that, Annabelle Rama has instilled upon us the value of a mother. To her, her children are the best in their craft. Despite often mispronouncing their names as Rofa instead of Ruffa and Retsard instead of Richard, she constantly offers her unwavering support to them most especially to Richard Gutierrez. For Annabelle, he is the most talented thespian there is. This, in spite of the rumor that Richard actually inherited his acting skills from a stoned monument for having the same facial expression all throughout a movie.To the people criticizing Richard for being a ham actor or for any matter, Annabelle Rama has no qualm in unleashing her fury on national television by saying ---- Hoy, 'day, kung naeenggget ka lang, tegil tegilan mo na si Retsard!"Indeed, any orphan in this world would be lucky to have Annabelle Rama as a surrogate mother.

Perhaps, there will no one like Annabelle Rama in our lifetime. Dressed in expensive designer clothes and sparkling jewelries, this opulent middle aged woman has more balls than any other men. They say strong women are sexy. But Annabelle Rama is more than sexy. Her important niche in showbiz is undeniable. Her worthy contributions in Philippine pop culture have forever been etched. The greatest of which came from her very womb. Who else but Ruffa Gutierrez, whose sole purpose of existence in her 30's is to annoy us with her kolehiyala accent. For all of these, God bless Annabelle Rama.

The Day He Became Paralyzed

2011-11-22T09:40:00.000+07:00

This is a case of a 17 year old male patient who was rushed to the ER due to difficulty in breathing. Early morning of that day, the patient was suddenly incapacitated, not being able to stand up or walk for unknown reason. The clinical picture he exhibited suggested a grim prognosis. All along, the harsh thought of losing an older brother had troubled his five year old sister.

It was a sweltering summer afternoon. The oppressively hot weather had severely compromised everyone's well being. People at the emergency room were fanning themselves like crazy. The obnoxious heat went instantly unnoticed when a toxic looking teenage boy arrived together with his mother and younger female sibling. His words were inaudible. His respiration required a herculean effort. He constantly opened his mouth to gasp for air. His breathing pattern was irregular, shallow, and would repeatedly pause for few seconds. His legs were limp and unresponsive to stimuli. The patient's condition can be compared to a poor cat fighting for its life after getting run over by a speeding vehicle.

"Bigla ho syang nahirapang huminga. Kaninang umaga, pagkagising nya, di na sya makatayo't makalakad. Kala ko ho, pinulikat lang sa kakabasketbol kahapon," relayed anxiously by his mother.

The patient's laborious breathing was evidently entering the phase of a respiratory collapse--- a time when he might not be able to breath on his own. While observing him, the teenage boy intensely stared at me with his droopy eyes as if he was saying "help me." As he was being hooked with intravenous fluids, the patient's hypoxic episode heightened. He was on the verge of passing out. Assisted artificial ventilation was immediately carried out. The mother was terribly distraught at the sight of a large tube being inserted into her son's mouth. In one corner, she wept quietly. The daughter, the patient's younger sister, firmly embraced her mother's waist, appeared to be scared for witnessing what her ill fated brother was going through. She hid herself using her mother's body in an attempt to blind herself from reality.

With a maze of tubes and wires connected to his body, the patient laid listless on the bed. His vital signs, stable. His mother was conversing via mobile phone with his father stationed abroad. While trying to fight back tears, she was giving updates with regards to their son's current physical state. The crucial requirement to establish the presumptive diagnosis of hypokalemic periodic paralysis was met when the patient's lab result came out. It revealed a a resoundingly low serum potassium level. Luckily, this type of abrupt, transient, and periodic muscle paralysis carries a decent prognosis. Despite the awful predicament the patient was undergoing, spontaneous recovery was expected. Outside the ICU, the mother was reassured of his son's possible good clinical outcome after treatment.

"Salamat naman sa Diyos," the embattled mom rejoiced.

Apparently, the family would be migrating abroad to join the father for good in a few months time. The youngest female child at a measly age of five had a strong grasp of the English language. She was extensively taught with the American tongue in preparation for their permanent change of address.

While instructing the mother about his son's medications and admission procedures, the five year old daughter unexpectedly snuck in our conversation.

"Please don't let my Kuya die," she innocently requested.

As I stared at the little girl's face, her aura remained expressionless. Deep inside, on what she saw her brother went through, I knew she was worried, if not, hurting.

So I asked, " Why? Do you love your Kuya?"

She nodded to say yes. Then, a deep-seated shyness overwhelmed the child. She suddenly barricaded herself unto the chest of her mother. Despite covering her timid face, the tears that tend to overflow from her eyes caught my attention. She instantly wiped them off with her small bare hands as if an instinct had told her to act strong. But obviously, the sadness that transfixed upon her became unbearable.

During his hospital stay, the patient seemed undaunted by his physical disabilities. Courageous and strong-willed, even with a tube inserted into his oral orifice making him unable to talk, the patient habitually raised the thumb up sign in reaction to every question asked and procedure done to him. He was responding well to treatment. Gradually, the young boy went into full recovery. At day 2, his breathing became normal. The endotracheal tube was taken out. At day 3, he surpassed his once cruel disabling affliction--- gaining normal strength on his lower extremities. Seeing the patient took his first few steps after being paralyzed for several days was an uplifting moment for everyone. At day 4, he was discharged as improved.

On the day they were about to leave the hospital premises, when they passed by the place where I was, the patient was graciously hand in hand with his younger sister while their mother was behind them. As my eyes met with the patient's, in a shimmering vigor, he uttered his appreciation for making him well. While the family was waving their hands in goodbye, I focused on the little sister who seemed all smile as if it was an effort to reveal the renewed spirit that dwelled within her.

The Rude FX Taxi Driver Incident

2011-11-19T10:14:00.000+07:00

"Ma, puede po bang bumaba sa kabila?" my two female fellow passengers sitting at the back seat of the fx chorused.

The driver impolitely replied," Dito lang ang babaan. Konti na lang lalakarin nyo. Mapeperwisyo ako nyan sa ginagawa nyo!"

I was greeted with this upon boarding an fx taxi on my way home from a convention. The two passengers facing me had no choice but to get off and walked to their destination. Then, a middle aged woman and a young man boarded the vehicle. In spite of being forty something, the female was clad in a lascivious attire--- a pink tank top that bared a good portion of her breasts (which appeared surgically enhanced) and a skimpy shorts. The guy who was with her was seemed to be her lover based on how they showed physical affection with each other. The couple instantly reminded me of the still on going hideous May December affair of Vicky Belo and Hayden Kho. People call such woman as a milf or a cougar. But I prefer to refer to her as a magurang, short formalanding gurang.

When our vehicle passed through a couple of road humps, the woman's half exposed boobs were bouncing along. As if I were watching a live tennis match, my head was moving up and down simultaneously with her plastic chest. At that instance, I had an overwhelming desire to become an infant again. The odd lovers disembarked from the fx upon reaching their destination.

Bored for awhile, I began observing a large guy seated on the second compartment of the fx. Over his shoulders, I was looking on his iPod that he was tinkering. For someone as big as him, I was appalled to see some of his chosen discography. His mp3 collection massively consists of tunes from the likes of MYMP, Taylor Swift, Nina, Kyla, Princess Velasco, The Corrs, Wilson Philips, and Regine Velasquez. From the moment I saw the guy board the vehicle, I knew there was something wrong with him.

A guy with a weird hairstyle embarked and sat at the back seat facing me. With a copious amount of hair gel, he highly resembled Moe of The Three Stooges. With the bunot hair do of his, I do not know how he was able to go on with his life. Nonetheless, I was boggled when he started laughing by himself uninitiated. When I stared at him, he seemed to be embarrassed of his sudden jovial mood. While I pretended to look through the window to have him nurture his strange gleeful moment, the guy with the bunot hairstyle was trying hard to contain himself from laughing. Yet he was overcome by his uncontrollable chuckles. Good thing is, he was quite discreet about his self inflicted laughter so as not to disturb the other passengers. I was thinking he was probably recalling the day he got his hair.

"Ma, dadaan ho ba to ng Tektite," the female passenger seated beside me politely asked. The driver pretended to hear nothing.

She repeated, "Ma, dadaan kayo ng Tektite?" Still, the driver deliberately snobbed her.

After sending a sms, the lady reiterated, "Ma, pa-Tektite ba to?"

Expressing obvious ire, the dark skinned driver raised his signboard for her to see and stressed,"Ayan oh, nakalagay naman sa karatula! Titingin kasi kayo sa sinasakyan nyo!"

Suddenly, a fat female passenger seated on the second compartment scornfully told the driver,"Alam mo, bastos ka!"

The driver replied, "Inaano ba kita?"

"Bastos ka kasi! Nagtatanong sa yo nang maayos yung ale. Atsaka yung dalawang ale kanina sa likod pinababa mo agad. Matuto kang gumalang. Di ka naman mabubuhya kung wala kaming mga pasahero mo!" lectured the plus sized woman.

The chocolate faced driver reasoned in disgust, "Wala ka nang pakialam dun. Pag nahuli ako, di naman kayo ang mapeperwisyo!"

"Sabihin mo nang maayos. Di yung bastos ka! Tulad nitong ale, mao-oo ka lang naman. Mahirap ba gawin yun!?" the feisty passenger declared in contempt.

The driver angrily implied, "Alam mo, marami akong iniisip di lang kayo. Atsaka wag mo nga ko pagsasabihan, mas matanda pa ko sa yo! Tangina naman!"

"Tangina mo din! Wag mo kong mumurahin! Sa ugali mong yan, may tatalo din sa yo. Ikamamatay mo yan," the overweight female passenger warned while flashing her sardonic smile.

Their argument could have escalated further but majority of the passengers including the lady who the driver was quarreling with disembarked when we reached a mall. After alighting the vehicle, she insultingly added while holding on to the open door, "Yang kulay mo kasing-itim ng budhi mo!"

The driver mockingly answered, "Ikaw naman taba! Baboy!"

To the surprise of the other people standing outside, she shouted back, "Negro! Nognog! Wag kayong sasakay dyan. Bastos yan!"

"Taba! Taba! Baboy! Biik!" the dim complexioned driver retaliated.

Negro! Nognog! Ulikba!" the bulky female responded. After which, she empathically closed the vehicle's door.

As the fx taxi sped away, I was not able to contain myself from laughing. I was chuckling so hard when I noticed that the guy with the bunot hairstyle was looking at me intently. At that moment, I knew what it felt like to be in his shoes a few minutes ago.

The Recto Movie House Incident

2011-11-16T09:31:00.000+07:00

I have a secret. Before the surge of those high end cinemas at the malls, back when I was a struggling college student from one of the schools at The University Belt in Manila, I had the nasty habit of frequenting those movie theaters along Recto, as long as the movie showing starred my favorite actress at that time, Joyce Jimenez. Now married and on the family way, Joyce Jimenez was once the object of my penile desire. I could have cared less if she has those areolas the size of a platito, those not-so-perfect sagging fun bags, those huge arms or those multiple love handles. Despite these flaws, she was still tagged as the "Pantasya Ng Bayan." For Pinoy men, her tempting ethereal face and voluptuous physique were smokin'. Now that her showbiz career has gone into smoke, it is but nostalgic to recount the time when her launching movie came out--- Scorpio Nights 2.

Prior to its release, the buzz regarding the movie was insane. To stir public interest, Scorpio Nights 2 was dubbed as "the boldest movie ever made" boasting of a myriad of exposed female body parts and simulated sex acts. Headed by the very female star that pushed the boundary of my lustful imagination, I felt the overwhelming urgency to watch it as soon as it hit the theaters. And what more appropriate venue for me to see Scorpio Nights 2 than in an old, second rate, poorly ventilated and bug colonized movie house along Recto, Manila.

The first day of its showing coincided perfectly with a long vacant from my class schedule. Perhaps it was the overpowering adolescent urge of mine, I had the uncontrollable need to be among the firsts to watch Scorpio Nights 2. I tried hard to persuade my classmates to accompany me but to no avail. So, I endured the shameless deed of watching it by my lonesome in an indecent venue. Before going, I contemplated of wearing sunglasses and a face mask ala Michael Jackson so nobody could recognize me. At that instance, I felt I would rather wear a tshirt that says "I Love Judy Ann Santos" than be caught going into such place. But for the sake of my anticipatory sexual arousal, I went to see the movie alone. Just a stone throw away from my school, I arrived at the cinema just in time for the film's second screening. After paying for my movie ticket, I went to the snack bar to buy something to eat. A barong clad man in his forties suddenly appeared before me.

"Hi! May kasama ka?" he soft spokenly said.

Based on his homosexual erotically driven tone of voice and facial aura, I immediately knew that he was a gay man in the hunt for bed mates. As a defenseless, frail, and immaculate teenage virgin at that time, my heart began palpitating at a tremendous rate. Like a small and innocent animal for a bait about to be devoured by a large beast, I was afraid. To avoid being a victim of a sex predator, I quickly thought of an alibi.

With a straight face, I replied, "Yung kuya ko kasama ko, nasa loob ng sinehan."

"Kala ko kasi mag-isa ka lang. Yayain sana kitang manuod tayo nang sabay," the middle aged homosexual guy audaciously revealed while flashing his flirtatiously demonic smile.

As if it was the only way to stay alive, I swiftly headed towards the inside of the cinema. After finding a chair to sit, I suspiciously looked around, deeply paranoid that the dirty old homo might be lurking from behind. Since the coast was clear, my attention was set on the big screen. A movie trailer from Seiko Films was currently playing. During those days, Seiko Films was a top film outfit known for their raunchy B movie offerings and this infamous motto: "If it's from Seiko, it must be good." Seiko Films came out with massive productions of forgettable R18 movies with unforgettable titles such as Talong (Eggplant), Itlog (Egg), Basa (Wet), Kangkong (Water Spinach), Patikim Ng Pinya (Taste The Pineapple) and Anakan Mo Ako (Inseminate Me).

Noticeably, the common denominator among these sleazy flicks was the use of schmaltzy music from the band Michael Learns To Rock whose sole existence lies on annoying people with their songs. As the erotic scenes from these Seiko Films movies were shown, the obnoxious background music from the cheesy songs 25 Minutes and The Actor was simultaneously played. After the combined visual pleasure and auditory torture offered by the Seiko Films movie trailer, the screening for Scorpio Nights 2 finally began. Just a few minutes since the film began, an extremely loud snore distracted my keen viewing pleasure. Merely three seats apart from me, the annoying sound emanated from a bald man sleeping soundly, with his head fully extended and is mouth wide open like a Venus Flytrap. Judging from his look, the guy with alopecia was probably sleep-deprived for a long time. No amount of high volume from the movie playing was successful in waking him. His successive attacks of loud snores led me to believe that in his previous life, the man might have lived as a swine.

After getting several meters away from the follicly challenged guy nearing coma, I found solace in my new seat as I watched Joyce Jimenez do her thing. Halfway through the movie, a student couple sat in front of me. As the scenes from the film heated up, so did the live action courtesy of the lovers in school uniforms. Right before my very eyes, the two lovers were on the brink of suffocation. As if constricting each other like boa pythons, they were hugging like there is no tomorrow. Unmindful of my presence, they even swapped DNAs by torridly locking lips. At the rate they were goin, they seemed to be perpetually engaged in a battle of who between them can hold his or her breath longer. Obviously in the peak of lust, the young couple were doing the precarious activity all throughout the movie. If not for the lights turning on after the movie had ended, they could have probably gone all the way.

As the male dominated crowd of moviegoers went out of the theater, I had the unreasonable paranoia that upon exiting the venue, a tv camera and microphone would be shoved right into my face, asking for my opinion and shout outs for the movie. Thank God, it did not happen. And nowadays, I thank God for the dvd players and pirated discs. I can now watch movies in the confines of my own room away from the presence of a horny couple, a snoring bald guy, movie trailers with cheesy theme songs, and a gay sex predator.

Simple Truths About Life You May Not Even Notice

2011-11-11T10:03:00.000+07:00

1. Only three types of people are allowed to wear sunglasses indoors: a blind man, a celebrity and an asshole.

2. Bon Jovi is not rock. Anyone who categorizes them as rock shall be punished by making that person replace the ago go dancers who have been using Bon Jovi songs in their repertoire.

3. Hunky male celebrities and models are lonely people. They don't get to pig out on lechon, burgers and chicharon. Lagi pang pagod sa kaka-gym.

4. Ipods and portable music players are perfect devices to protect oneself against bad music and atrocious fm radio stations inside fx and jeepneys.

5. Movie adaptations of novels are not at par with the originals except if the title is The Lord Of The Rings.

6. The popularity of drinking bottled water emerged as a result of a conspiracy to poison our minds that drinking tap water is dangerous to health. Back in time, everyone was drinking straight from the faucet with generally no harmful effect to one's being.

7. Hip hop and RNB artists are a bunch of narcissists. They always include their names in their songs---Yo, T Pain! Hey, Jay Sean! Hey Yo Snoop Dog!

8. There never was and never will be a serial killer in the Philippines because Filipinos are inherently chismoso. A would be habitual murderer will just get caught easily.

9. On pictures posted on the society pages of magazines and newspapers, there is one group of rich people I always see: Tim Yap and company.

10. The best way to bring out the gayness of a discrete homosexual is by asking him of Miss Universe trivia.

11. Humans are like animals. They get violent once they see free food.

12. Geniuses are hideous looking. They compensate by learning more. Gorgeous people are dumb. They stop learning the moment they know they can get anything they want with their looks.

13. The nearer you get to your house, the more difficult it is to hold your pee.

14. Videos of people lip synching while making funny faces posted on YouTube are not at all funny nor entertaining.

15. People are suckers for freebies. They are willing to get hurt just to grab those worthless movie poster giveaways being thrown by celebrities on stage.

16. Manufacturers of pirated dvds are always guilty of bad spelling and poor grammar---Leonardo Di Carpio And Keith Winslet In Titanic! Antonio Banders And Catherine Cita Jones In The Mask Of Zoro!

17. Everyone has surely tried cupping their hands in order to catch his fart and smell it after.

18. When you hear someone talking loudly over the phone in public, it usually comes from a man who looks like a DOM.

19. There is always someone in your group that will sing an Air Supply song when you're doing videoke.

20. Certain plain looking celebrities are hyped as beautiful just because they are famous among the masa.

21. The siomai served in small kiosks like Siomai House and Master Siomai is better than those served in expensive restaurants.

22. Security guards of malls and the MRT are show offs. They always pretend to check your bag by poking it with a stick or turning on the metal detector.

23. The price one pays for the cheap gadgets and accessories at CDR King --- salesladies who are masungit.

24. PETA should stop bugging us with its campaign against eating animals. There is nothing unethical about consuming steaks and fried chickens. Even Jesus and His apostles feasted on meat.

25. Facebook is a venue for self important people who feel gratified from the adulations they get from their senseless status messages and hedonistic cam whoring photos ---"Im having a Starbucks frapuccino! Yum! Yum!" "Bordeom Strikes! My Photos Taken In My Room."

26. Healthy food tastes bland. The more delicious a food is, the more sinful it is.

27. Members of Kpop boy bands are more malandi than their female counterparts. Based on how gay they look, they probably know more about eyeliners, concealers and foundations than an average girl.

28. Kwek kwek, isaw and fishballs are snacks rich in vitamin E. Gulaman and other palamig are drinks rich in vitamin C --- E for E. coli and C for cholera.

29. A woman no matter how gorgeous she may be is a big turn off if she has dark kili kili.

30. Pinoy moviegoers coming out of the theater have a strange way of telling their insights about the film they have just seen --- "Ang guwapo ni Piolo!" "Ang ganda ni Marian!" "Bagay na bagay sina John Lloyd at Bea! Nakakakilig!"

Premature, Abandoned And Dying

2011-11-08T09:53:00.000+07:00

This is a case of a preterm baby girl who was sent to the emergency room after she was found in a vacant lot beside a pile of refuse. She was an obvious case of unwanted pregnancy--- a suspected product of elective abortion. When the people who discovered her saw her, she was still exhibiting signs of life as if she wanted to live despite the fact she was cruelly abandoned.

It was a riveting sight: an extremely small baby, still blood tinged, laying on the ER bed. Her wrinkled skin and underdeveloped physique clearly showed she was premature. She reacted to her surrounding via her tiny extremities moving with much difficulty. Her chest retracted every time she takes her breath signifying she was in respiratory distress brought about by her immature lungs. Her heart rate was weak and irregular. She uttered a cry that was inaudible. A picture of agony and helplessness was reflected in her face.

"Nagroronda po kami. Nakita ko na may gumagalaw sa supot. Akala ko nung una, kuting. Laking gulat ko na bata pala," the female barangay tanod who brought the infant narrated.

She continued, "Dinala na namin dito agad. Baka sakaling mabuhay pa."

Based on her physical examination, the baby weighed merely 610 grams. Her crown rump length was 21 cm. She was estimated to be between 24-25 weeks old. With such age, the probability of neonatal morbidity is high. Her chance of survival was significantly low, if not nil. Despite this bleak picture, the frail baby still recieved intensive care. In her effort to live, she needed every help she could get.

In a split second, the baby began gasping for air. Her miniature and limp body became cyanotic. In just a short period of time upon getting medical attention, she was already undergoing cardiopulmonary arrest. Her fragile health seemed not able to withstand being brought out of this world prematurely. Even before she got intubated, the baby made her last effort to breathe. With that last gasp for air, I saw the pain and grief sorrowfully painted in her small face. That if she could possibly talk, she would have uttered, "Mommy, why did you leave me?"

The infant became motionless afterwards. She showed no heart beat. CPR was immediately instituted. As I pumped the ambubag to let oxygen flow into her lungs, the nurse rhythmically pressed her tiny chest to stimulate her heart. Yet no amount of CPR could bring her back. She may have the utmost will to live but her incompletely developed organs were not able to sustain this desire of hers. After several minutes, she was pronounced dead.

While observing the baby's cadaver completely wrapped awaiting transport to the morgue, I started to think about her mother--- how heartless she could be to treat her own child so inhumanely. No sane human reason could justify the act of abandoning an innocent baby to rot together with a pile of garbage. On the other hand, I felt an unusually rousing experience for the baby. I took pride in her brave battle to stay alive in her few hours of life on earth. In her abrupt existence, she may have been denied parental love. Unlike other babies, she may have never experienced the joy of finding a home. Yet, in her new life as a little angel, I am certain that she has already found a new home with God.

Starbucks In The Filipino Minds

2011-11-02T09:23:00.000+07:00

Like a communicable disease, Starbucks has become a widespread epidemic. For the past decade, it has taken over the malls. As if an over priced cup of coffee belongs to a basic food group, the high demand for Starbucks in our third world country is undeniable. For many Filipinos, drinking Starbucks is an obsession. A life without it is a life not worth living. Synonymous to a drug addict, they need to have their regular fix of not just ordinary coffee but the one with the famous logo on its cup. But unlike junkies, they never hide this strange preoccupation. They proudly flaunt it for other people to see.

Teenagers. Young professionals. Even senior citizens. People from all walks of life are caught with the Starbucks phenomenon. For them, there is no better place to pass time, to hold a meeting or to review for an exam than at Starbucks. As if a high end coffee shop could make their neurons absorb more what they are reading, students troop to Starbucks to study for hours. As if a pricey beverage could make people more sociable, meetings are held at Starbucks. As if tinkering with their gadgets while sipping coffee could make them look cool, people chill out at Starbucks. The point is, patrons mostly go to Starbucks not for the purpose of dining but for the purpose of infesting the venue with their presence.

For avid clients, Starbucks is not just coffee. It is a parameter of social status and good taste. That is why there are some profile pictures at Facebook showing people holding a cup of Starbucks. Likewise, there are those who take hours to finish a single drink, maybe to boast to passers by that they are having Starbucks. Like telling the public they love Starbucks, there are people who even wear t-shirts with its logo. Starbucks may cost more compared to other beverages. But an average Filipino is willing to indulge in such if only to satisfy his social climbing nature.

On a regular basis, the great number of customers swarming a Starbucks branch never ceases to amaze me. No word better defines it than madness. For a single beverage already worth the price of one whole lechon manok, people are willing to spend the said amount just to have the posh Starbucks experience. The desire to be associated with the elite --- I guess it is human nature. Starbucks, more than any commodity, could satisfactorily fill that void among people. The fancy ambiance. The comforting service and hospitality of its employees. The expensive and foreign sounding items from its menu. The fellow diners who speak with an elitist accent. These are what Starbucks is made up of. It is like an exclusive club. For more or less two hundred bucks a drink, anyone with a desire to feel rich and privileged even for a short moment could easily join in.

The Monologue Of Raymond Gutierrez

2011-10-28T09:40:00.000+07:00

Gosh! What a night! The party thrown by Tim Yap at Encore was a blast. I got to see once again all my BFFs in one place. It has a been awhile since I've been with those ladies. Girl bonding galore! Georgina is pretty as ever. I totally like the dress of Isabel. Anne was still devastated over her nipslip in Bora. She should be, with that small boobs of hers. Mine are even bigger than hers. Hihihihi. Just kidding, Anne. I totally teased Kelly about the eeky stuff she is doing at Wowowee--- even dancing and singing to Willie Revillame's songs. Yuck, so jologs! Bubbles is getting thinner. But how dare she says I'm so mataba. Doesn't she know I've been working my ass off in the gym lately? I totally forgive her. After all, she is my bestfriend. I'll just take her remark as a challenge. Someday, my body will look good as my Kuya Richard.

It's so freakin hot these days. If not going to Bora, I'll totally hate hot days. It makes it uncomfortable for me to wear my favorite fashion. You know, fedora, the shawl, the layered clothing and the skinny jeans. Of course, those Ninoy eyeglasses. Nevermind, if they don't have a grado. I just look totally cute on them.

Yesterday, it was a total bummer. Something went totally wrong with my iPod. All the files in it totally vanished. Downloaded songs from my favorite artists such as Madonna, Cher, Lady Gaga, Mariah Carey, The Carpenters, Beyonce, Celine Dion, Alicia Keys, and Justin Beiber--- all so gone. The season 2 episodes of my favorite tv show Glee were also lost. So were my most watched movies like Dream Girls, Sex And The City, The Sound Of Music, Charlie's Angels, The Hottie And The Notty, and Hannah Montana. All these stuff may insinuate gayness. For the record, I'm not gay. I'm just into women empowerment.

It's totally irritating when people accuse you of what you are not. I'll never ever publicly admit I'm some home like what Ricky Martin did, even to the day I die. Speaking of dying, while killing time kanina, I made my bucket list. First, I wanna meet Oprah in person. She's my idol. I love her totally. Second, I have to watch a Barbara Streisand concert. I heard that a ticket to her show costs thousands of dollars. I want to belong to the privileged ones, the chosen few who have watched my favorite diva. I'm just totally crazy for her. Last, I got to own that million peso Hermes bag first before Ate Ruffa. God, I can now paint her reaction when she sees me carrying an Hermes bag. Hihihihi. Once again, you may think of my list as unmanly. I wanna reiterate Im not gay. I'm just into bags, Barbara, and Oprah.

Well, it's time for me to sleep. My body is just totally drained from the tiring party my best friend Tim gave. But first, I have to take these tons of makeup they put at this afternoon's taping. Then wash my face, Brush my teeth. Tone. moisturize. Put on a rejuvenating mask for 15 minutes. Apply some whitening cream to keep my flawless face. Then, I'm ready for my beauty rest. Again, I'm not gay.

I Wish I Were

2011-10-24T14:22:00.000+07:00

I wish I were a gynecologist. So that I could regularly tell women to take off their underwear, open their legs and warn them that I'll insert something hard.

I wish I were Axl Rose of Guns 'N Roses. Despite his fondness for wearing cycling shorts during concerts, no one dares question his masculinity.

I wish I were Ben Tulfo. He is the only broadcast journalist who has the balls to tell anyone he doesn't like to get out of his face.

I wish I were an event blogger. So I would do nothing in life but attend and get freebies from product launches, expos and conventions.

I wish I were April Boy Regino. Despite looking and sounding like a lesbian, he sold millions of records nationwide.

I wish I were Rico J. Puno. Without sounding offensive, he could easily suggest to a gorgeous female "Gusto mo anakan kita?" to the delight of the audience.

I wish I were Kris Aquino. Despite her history of STD, she was able to endorse a feminine wash product on print and tv. She could basically sell anything.

I wish I were a child of a famous dead rock star. From the millions earned annually from my father's extensive discography, I would practically never have to work a day in my life.

I wish I were Lolit Solis. She is the only individual who could extort money and valuable materials from the rich without ever going to jail.

I wish were George Clooney. Despite being gurang, many young women are still after him.

I wish I were Moymoy Palaboy. While most people need good looks and talent to enter showbiz, they on the other hand made it by merely lip syncing and contorting their faces like retards.

I wish I were a member of a Kpop boy band. Despite their effeminate look and other kabaklaan, they remain the objects of adoration among many teenage girls.

I wish I were a Starbucks barista or security guard. Aside from the pay, they also enjoy the said coffee shop's over priced beverage for free in every shift.

I wish I were Madam Auring. Despite being 70, she showed she is still proud of her body by having herself photographed in a bikini.

I wish I were Ramon Revilla Sr. Before stroke incapacitated him, he was able to sire his 43rd child at past age 70. He was such a sex machine.

I wish I were an owner of a sex toy shop. So that I could get to know the intimate secrets of many people.

I wish I were a local celebrity. Even without any singing talent, I could be a best selling recording artist through the help of my gullible fans.

I wish I were a gravure photographer. So I could see in person the Japanese women starring in several educational documentaries uploaded in YouTube.

I wish I were Tim Yap. While most struggle to make ends meet, he on the other hand earns a lot of money from partying and having a good time.

I wish I were Willie Revillame. Instead of saying "Kamukha mo si Fanny Serrano," many of his show's contestants delightfully praised him, "Kuya Wil, ang guwapo mo!"

My Affair With Judy Ann And Jolina

2011-10-22T10:05:00.000+07:00

In the midst of the gargantuan task of cleaning up my messy room, I made a rediscovery of a long lost treasure--- my Judy Ann Santos and Jolina Magdangal notebooks I used back in med school. As I wipe the dust off them, I was defeated by an overwhelming nostalgic emotion. Tears began falling down my eyes as flashback of my struggling years as a medical student in the company of Judy Ann and Jolina lingered in my mind. Having these two iconic showbiz personalities immortalized in my notebooks has brought everlasting joy to me and to other people as well.

No one can deny them of the mark they have on Philippine showbiz. Jolina, famous for her eccentric fashion sense and her record breaking hit song "Chuvachuchu" is regarded as the next Vilma. Judy Ann who started her career as Ula Ang Batang Gubat and widely teased for her cushingoid facie (mukha naman siopao yang si Juday as critics would say) is dubbed as the new Nora. Both have staged mall shows that almost led to chaos and stampede at Ever Gotesco,Farmer's Plaza, Starmall and Isetann. Both have performed SRO concerts at jolog-infested halls and coliseums here and abroad. Both have sold out merchandises such as albums, consumer products, and dolls. Their fan base is for the record. I bet that even their utot would sell like hotcakes. Adding to their impressive resumes are box office records at the tills. Among them areLabs Kita Ok Ka Lang for Jolina and Pano Ang Puso Ko for Judy Ann. (I'm kinda sad that I know these stuff.)

But let me get one thing straight though. I AM NOT A FAN OF JUDAY AND JOLENS ( as these two are fondly called.) It is just that when it comes to notebook covers, I have the movie star taste of a yaya. Back then, there seemed to be an uncontrollable urge to have Juday and Jolens as my notebooks or paranoia of flunking med school would set in. Looking back, there are no absolute regrets.

For one, my Juday and Jolens notebooks became an effective contraceptive device. At a stage where one should be focused solely on his studies, the opposite sex were instantly turned off by the mere glimpse of me carrying proudly my Juday and Jolens covered learning companions. These notebooks have inhibited me from fostering a relationship with girls. More so, it prevented me from getting laid. Thinking back, I would have become an unwilling father if not for Jolens and Juday.

My notebooks have never failed in stirring up the funny bones of other people. Just the shear sight of my Juday and Jolens notebooks could readily submit my professors and classmates into boisterous laughter as if they were being tickled in their armpits by Juday and Jolens themselves. I have become a laughing stock back then. Yet I took it all in stride as I believe laughter is the best medicine.

I was a helpless victim of a schoolbag theft twice in the very vicinity of our university. But since having these notebooks, robbers appeared to have shied away. The Juday and Jolens notebooks are impressive tools in inflicting permanent mental scars to would be thieves. Getting nothing in my bag but notebooks with these two young showbiz icons as covers would surely haunt the memory of would be burglars in the waking hours of their illustrious looting career.

So, what postgraduate student or private schooled individual would dare utilize a notebook with a pangmasang artista as its headliner. I have yet to see one who is as crazy as I am. Nevertheless, I am thankful to my Juday and Jolens notebooks. Without Jolina, I would have never been inspired to jot down notes during lectures. Without Juday, I would never have passed the difficult exams that came along the way. And because of both of them, a mind-boggling mystery has forever been etched in the memory of my former classmates--- Am I a Jolina fan or am I a Judy Ann fan?

Nowadays, I bet these notebooks would sell a lot, maybe millions, on Ebay. Ive been visiting bookstores hoping to see another one of these but to no avail. Maybe these notebooks with Judy Ann Santos and Jolina Magdangal covers are now being sold at the black market for a stiff price since they are now collectors' items. Now, if only I could find my Manilyn Reynes notebook I used back in high school.

Why The Hell You Should Not Wear These

2011-10-18T15:06:00.000+07:00

I was told that this week is Philippine Fashion Week. It is a stressful time for both the designers and the models. For the designers, they are required to present their latest collection of clothes which ironically ordinary people would never wear. For the models, they have to deprive themselves of real food. In order to look good as they walk their way to the ramp, they have to settle with crackers and oat meals. I am no fan of fashion. As a matter of fact, I hate shows like American Next Top Model and Project Runway. All I see are nothing but overflowing kabaklaan. And until now, I cannot understand why the designers and models act so toxic during fashion shows as if they were doctors and nurses in the ER. Despite my minute knowledge in the field of looking good, I believe there are people who overdo it. Likewise, I believe there are certain stuff which ought not to be seen in public in certain time and venue. For the sake of the betterment of this world and not for fashion, I present the reasons why the hell you should not wear these:

Sunglasses While Indoors

People who wear sunglasses indoors assume that they look cool. Yet they do not know there are only three types of people who are allowed to don the tinted eyeglasses in an enclosed establishment --- the blind, the celebrity and the asshole. Unless one wants to look like a douche bag, sunglasses are not meant to be worn in places devoid of ultraviolet rays. Kaya nga "sun"glasses eh.

T-Shirts That Look Like Maternity Dresses

In wearing a baggy t-shirt, some do it as a lifestyle. Others do it to hide the bulge. But the end result is, they tend to look obnoxious. When donning clothes triple your size, even rappers could not get away from the atrocity of its appearance. The simple rule to follow: any garment that could fit a chihuahua inside should be reserved only as a sleep wear.

The Attire Of A Dance Instructor

Fitted long sleeves. Check. Skinny jeans. Check. Pointed leather shoes. Check. Artificially colored har. Check. The sum of them all as a casual look spells disaster. Any man who goes out in public with this style does not deserve to return home. Even a legitimate DI would get offended at the sight of a man with this sartorial preference strolling at a mall.

Stupid Statement T-Shirts

It is just juvenile --- wearing a cheap t-shirt with naughty statements printed on it. Certified Sex Instructor, Wanted Female Roommate and Malaki Ang Titik O are some of the classic examples. But none is more tasteless that the shirt that bears the print "The Man The Legend" (with an arrow pointing towards the wearer's crotch). Whether in English or Filipino, statement shirts belonging to this class is downright childish. Anyone who wears such apparel should be regarded as a moron unless proven otherwise.

Sleeveless Shirts Or Sando In Public

It should be outlawed --- women who wear sleeveless whose arms are as big as crispy pata. Likewise, women in sleeveless whose dark armpits resemble those of a chicken skin should be regarded as a violation of our human rights. Yet, males with toned biceps are not exempted. Yes, your muscular upper limb may look good in a sando. There may be a nice tattoo that goes along with them. But one thing that is just annoying in people who wear sando in public --- their protruding armpit hairs. Like our genitals, I propose that the axilla should be regarded as a private part of the human body. So as not to contaminate our eyes, the kili kili must be restricted from view especially those that are hirsute, bushy and drenched in sweat. When riding the MRT, the thing I dread is not the roomful of people during rush hour. What I fear is the man in sando standing near me with his arms raised holding on to the railing and his hideous kili kili in front of my face.

In Honor Of Lolit Solis

2011-10-15T09:46:00.000+07:00

My odd interest for Lolit first became evident during the infamous Manila Filmfest fiasco where Lolit deviously manipulated the results of the awards night to the ire of Manila Mayor Alfredo Lim. "Friends na kami ni Mayor Lim ngayon, 'no!" she now claims. Thereafter, Lolit has been involved in a slew of showbiz rifts and controversies. The recent of which was during the Hayden Kho Sex Scandal media funfare. In the said hullaboo, Lolit lambasted the main perpetrator and Vicky Belo's manwhore Hayden Kho:"Hayden, layu-layuan mo na si Vicky no! Ikaw ang malas sa buhay nya!" Even the victim, sexpot Katrina Halili did not escape her sharp tongue: "Bakit pati si Vicky idadamay nya sa demanda? Di ba sya nahihiya pag tumingin sya sa salamin, nakikita nya kung sino ang gumawa ng ilong nya?!" During interviews, there is no one quite like Lolit Solis. Her verbal jousts never fail in cracking me up.

For those of you living in a cave, Lolit Solis or Manay Lolit as she is fondly called is a big time agent to the stars. She also sidelines as a tv host and showbiz columnist (at times, spokesperson for Vicky Belo.) Her likeness is incomparable --- the mullet, the grumpy face and the sardonic attitude. Whatever the occasion is, her sartorial preference is limited to a baggy shirt, pants and her trademark tsinelas. Not like other showbiz personalities, she does not splurge on expensive designer clothes and bags and tells the world about it. In the vocabulary of Lolit Solis, two words prominently stand out: "datung" and "bati" ("Eh ang datung?".... "Teka babati muna ako, no!") Despite her lack of hosting skills, she is a mainstay of a long running weekly entertainment talk show. Actually, her presence in the said program serves no conceivable purpose but to greet her friends and sponsors.

People have sometimes questioned the morals of Lolit Solis. Like a kid bully in school, she had made many enemies. Some of these foes had eventually kissed and made up with her. One of which was her former ward Gabby Concepcion. During their reconciliation that took place in the US, she shamelessly asked Gabby, "Bago tayo magbati, penge munang 100 dollars." Yes, Lolit is a money driven individual. But who isn't? With that boyish hairstyle and unladylike mannerisms, many have mistaken the vocal talent manager as lesbian. For me, Lolit is an epitome of a woman based on the way she shows her motherly care for her stable of wards. This reminds me. During a radio interview, a famous disc jockey bluntly asked Lolit if is she is a lesbian. In a valiant display of confidence, she quickly retorted, "Op kors not! I lab sex! Hahaha!" That reply of hers literally floored me as I almost fell from the chair I was sitting. I had mixed emotions. Much that I like for an old woman to still enjoy sex, it scares me to see Lolit Solis exchanging bodily fluids with someone or moaning while in the pinnacle of lust.

Throughout her shenanigans, Lolit Solis might have shown a slight history of retardation. But that what makes her remarkable. My liking for Lolit stemmed from the fact that she has a devil may care attitude --- fierce, straightforward and sarcastic. Unlike Boy Abunda or Cristy Fermin, she pretends to be nothing. She does not sugarcoat on what she has to say. For decades, Lolit has been a force to reckon with in Philippine show business. Despite years of clashing with movie stars and getting involved in scandals, Lolit is still standing. She can practically get away with anything. Nothing can tarnish the image of Lolit Solis even if she, heaven forbids, makes her own sex tape. Her values may be questionable. But only Lolit Solis has the balls to offend even the most powerful figure in her industry. Thank God for Lolit Solis. Showbiz has always been fun and enjoyable to follow.

The Sensual Diary Of A First Timer

2011-10-11T14:03:00.000+07:00

Awhile ago, I was flipping through my wallet when a packed condom fell out to the floor. Still unused, I made a dismal discovery that my sperm trapper met its expiration while in my possession. I realized I haven't had sex for over two years. For that prolonged period of time, my right hand has been my sole partner in bed. Consumed by self pity, I sought refuge in reliving the time when I first had sex.

Ideally, I would have wanted to experience sex first hand with the girl I love. But the teenage carnal desire in me was just too overpowering at that time. It was October 1997. I was 17 years young. The girl responsible for taking away my immaculate manhood was my 20 year old neighbor named Susan. Conservative outside but fierce in the inside, Susan was a perfect combination of two Marias--- Maria Clara and Maria Ozawa.

The cheap motel fee I paid for our love den cost dearly. Ventilation was poor. The bed sheet was visibly semen stained. Despite these flaws, I remained unfazed. What important was the sight of Susan gradually taking off her clothes getting ready for a night of boom boom. Suddenly, I had a feeling of apprehension. Deep inside, I was crying knowing I was about to give up my precious manhood. But I basically forgot about my trepidation when I saw Susan down to her bra and panties.

We started with gentle kissing which eventually led to a torrid one. As if I were a movie rapist, I smothered her neck with my hungry lips. Susan reciprocated with an erotic moan. While I was kissing her naked chest, I incidentally saw some threads of hair sticking out of her armpit. As a preparation for this glorious moment, I was a little disappointed that she did not even shave her kili kili. With armpit hairs that long, I almost entertained the idea of plucking a few strands so I could use them when I run out of dental floss.

After taking off her underwear, Susan forcefully shoved my head towards her love canal. Obviously, it was a signal for me to give some oral action to her vagin. As I positioned my face in front of her genital, I noticed a slightly pungent odor coming from it. I understood that this phenomenon is quite normal for some girls. From its smell and appearance, the first time I saw a vagin instantly reminded me of my favorite seafood, the tahong. Lustfully, Susan asked me to pleasure her using my tongue. At that instance, I knew I have to perform an extraordinary feat by licking her slightly malodorous genital. And if I succeed and did not expire, I have to lick it again for several times.

When it was time for her to give back, I realized Susan was special. For an out of school youth, she did not waste anytime in honing her talent in throwing a mouth party. By offering a mind blowing combination of erotic hand and mouth service, my man pole was at the peak of lust. Shortly after, Susan rode my penis like a crazy porn star. She was screaming on top of her lungs while doing so. From the helicopter to the reverse cowgirl, she lasciviously showcased her talent in bed calisthenics. She was like a contortionist. With the way she easily moved her body parts, I bet she could put one foot in her mouth and another foot in her vagina.

After 30 minutes of steamy sex, I had an unforgettable love explosion in her mouth. Being young and naive, I quickly asked Susan to spit out my man juice. For I feared that her mouth might get pregnant. In the end, I knew Susan was different. She may be ordinary looking. But the way she could satisfy her partner, she was like a veteran prostitute who have had gonorrhea several times. As for myself, my first sexual encounter left me happy but fatigued at the same time. I remember seeing my penis became so exhausted. It virtually looked like the snout of an old elephant.

The Bus Ride Incident

2011-10-08T09:59:00.000+07:00

Riding a bus always brings out the masochist nature in me. It is a dauntingly painful task yet it needs to be done. And sometimes, I derive pleasure in doing so. The scorching heat that day served as a premonition to a rough time ahead. I have anticipated a herculean effort to get to my destination. After all, it was pay day Friday---a time when people simultaneously troop to the malls itching to spend their newly-received paychecks right away. Buses were loaded with people like a pack of sardines. Every time a bus would stop over at a loading area, passengers would scuffle against each other for the opportunity to hitch on a ride. My life as a perpetual commuter taught me tactical maneuvers in order not to be left behind in times like this. It was not long before I was able to board in a bus.

The bus I got in was a "standing room only." I have to endure being in a vertical position as my lazed muscle tone get punished by the driver's aggressive handling behind the wheels. The operator of the said bus was seemingly stuck in the 80's as numerous posters of celebrity icons from the said decade can be seen on the windows and ceiling of the vehicle. Faces of Debbie Gibson, Phoebe Cates, Michael Jackson (before the mutation,) Duran Duran, Tiffany, and Rick Astley were plastered all over. All that is missing was Roderick Paulate and I was already on the brink of shuffling my feet gracefully to "Together Forever" ala Kuya Dick.

The loud music emanating from the speakers did not escape my watchful attention. The type of song playing gave me a hint on what radio station the bus was currently tuned in to. As soon as the music subsides and the dj started speaking, my most dreaded fear has come into a reality--- it was 90.7 Love Radio "Kelangan Pa Bang I-memorize Yan." I became terrified for my well-being as getting exposed to that atrocious fm station for the whole one hour duration of my travel means my brain cells might commit mass suicide. I remained stoical despit that threat. I found solace by thinking of happy thoughts but it was futile, as hoards of obnoxious songs were played by the dj continuously one after another--- from"Payong" (the Tagalized Rihanna song) to the helium-powered vocals of Air Supply in "Without You." I felt like being in an inferno of cheesy schmaltz where Barry Manilow is the president and Celine Dion is the first lady. This coupled with the discjockey's annoyingly hyperactive voice ("Maganmaganmaganmagandang hapon sa inyong lahat....") and the deadpan corny jokes that he alone would mandatorily laugh at.

I almost jump for joy when the conductor turned off the radio. He decided to initiate a free movie screening via the mechanically-attached cheap, second hand, surplus-bought tv set and vcd player. Just after uttering a sigh of relief, my heart began pounding hard and fast as the movie's opening credit rolled on the tv screen. The film showing was "Sana'y Laging Magkapiling" starring Vingo and Jimmy of the April Boyz (younger siblings of April Boy Regino .) Less than halfway through the movie, I was already entertaining a self-destructive thought of putting an end to my existence rather than torture myself in watching a badly-acted and poorly-written flick with two pathetic lead stars. One regurgitory scene from the movie had Vhingo and Jimmy kissing their leading ladies Vina Morales and Donita Rose on the lips. Right after, I felt nauseated as the food I have just ingested had the uncontrollable urge to reflux back to my esophagus.Donita and Vina might still be receiving psychiatric counseling up to this day brought about by that haunting almost a decade old movie scene.

Finally I got to sit after many of the passengers have disembarked. Once seated, I instantly noticed the great number of graffiti written at the back of the chairs. There was a juvenile inscription that says CHEERS short for Che Che, Ena, Em Em, Rizalyn and Sheng, presumably written by a group of high school students. There were messages of perversions such as Isubo Mo Malaki Ang Tit* Ko CP # 0917XXXX, Pretty Gay For Bottom Call Me 0921XXXX, and SOP Tayo 0922XXXX. Then, there were requests for friendship from people dying of alienation and boredom---In Need Of Friend, Text 0916XXXX and Need Textmate Bawal Ang Bastos CP No. 0922XXXX. The bus became an instant phone directory of sick people in dire need of attention.

A pregnant woman entered the bus and sat beside me. After a few minutes, I overheard her irritably mumbled "Ang init naman!" while fanning herself vigorously.

When the conductor approached her for ticketing, the woman complained, "Sira ba ang aircon nyo? Ang init kasi eh! Dapat pang-ordinary bus lang ibayad ko!"

"Ma'am, naka-full na po yung aircon. Kayo lang po ang nagrereklamo. Kung gusto nyo lipat na lang kayo sa iba," the conductor responded.

Such statement ticked off the preggy lady. In a show of anger, she forcefully threw unto the floor the money she was about to hand to the conductor.

"Bastos ka! Karapatan ko magreklamo dahil pasahero ako! Kita mo nang buntis ako papalipatin mo pa ko!!!" the gravid passenger madly blurted out as other people looked on.

While the conductor was picking up the money on the floor, his face appeared to be wanting to hide in a paper bag only to escape the shameful situation he was in. As I play witness to the incident, I prepared myself for a circumstance that the lady might go into an untimely delivery due to her heavy emotional outburst. I was also anticipating the would be newspaper headline,"Misis Nanganak Sa Bus!" Her verbal amok only meant that her hormones got the best of her. Truly, hell hath no fury like a woman in gestation.

A geeky looking, donkey faced man in a tie embarked and stood steadily in front of the passengers. Turning the pages of the thick book he was carrying, he started preaching about the Word Of God. He warned us of the upcoming Judgement Day which according to him would be three years from now. He narrated a cautionary tale of pain and suffering in the feiry pits of hell unless we started giving him money, este, repenting for our sins. And then with utmost clamor, he engaged himself into harmonious singing while playing the maracas: "Ang buhay ng Kristyano ay masayang tunay! Masayang tunay! Masayang tunay! Ang buhay ng Kristyano ay masayang tunay!"

The preacher's performance was so infectious that I found myself involuntarily clapping my hands and uttering "Amen" after every stanza of the gospel he was singing. The animated stares from the other passengers on me brought me back into reality that I seemed to have gotten carried away a little. The preacher asked us to pause for a moment of silence ("May namatay?" I wondered.) He then requested to say our own prayers privately. Nonetheless, I obliged and prayed, "Lord, may You deliver us from cunning people extorting money by using Your name in vain. Amen."

As expected, the preacher ended his program by handing an envelope asking for donations to each passenger. Before the preacher was able reach me, I needed to get off the bus for I already reached my destination. Too bad for the guy, I was willing to give him twenty thousand... centavos if only for his singing.

After I stepped out of the bus, I fell victim to the last song syndrome. While walking, I found myself humming like a psychopath to the tune of "Ang Buhay Ng Kristyano." Then like a bolt of lightning, a gush of joyful emotion transfixed into my soul. For I realized that I was able to learn many things on that one hour bus ride alone.

From the posters, I learn to appreciate the 80s despite being criticized as the decade of worst fashion and music. From the radio station, I learn that it is okay to laugh at your own stupid joke. From the movie, I learn that even ordinary joes like us can get it on with gorgeous women. From the graffiti, I learn that there are people out there in desperate need of human contact. From the pregnant woman, I learn all about anger management. From the preacher, I learn that there are musical numbers far more entertaining than the ones I saw on ASAP and SOP. Thank God for that bus, I came out as a new person.

The Dura Gang Incident

2011-10-04T09:35:00.000+07:00

I have this notion that I always attract felons only to have them feeling frustrated in the end. Maybe it is my appearance, these criminals think they could rob me of my possessions. But don't let the look deceive you. I am not rich. As I have always attested --- Mukhang lang akong marangya pero ang totoo isa akong dukha. On a regular basis, I don't carry with me hefty amount of cash or pricey gadgets. But since I do look like a relative of Henry Sy, I regularly end up meeting thieves in the flesh. What I have seen in the local news and read about in the internet became a real life experience on my part. During one cloudy afternoon, I was face to face with the members of the dreaded Dura Gang.

After having a meal at a nearby convenient store, I had to quickly find a ride back to work. At the jeepney stop, I became intimidated by the presence of three burly men. Based on their physique, I was vividly reminded of the goons straight from an old FPJ movie. As if they were large reptiles waiting for their prey, their evil predatory eyes fixated on me. When I flagged down a jeepney, all of them conspiciously followed as I embarked. There were only five people on board. One of the burly men sat beside me while the other two on the other side. In my private thoughts, I was thinking either they were gonna declare a holdup or they were homosexuals out to sodomize me. At that moment, I knew my ass, figuratively and maybe literally, was in trouble.

Suddenly one of the men facing me pointed out, "May dura ka sa balikat!"

True enough, I saw a minute amount of hideous saliva on my shoulder as if someone had intentionally put it there. After immediately wiping it out with a tissue paper, the man beside me insisted there were more remaining. Acting like someone concerned, he even asked for a rag from the driver to help me clean up. Despite the spit had been completely taken out, the man in front of me kept on pointing at my clothes while stating there were still traces left.

"Meron pa dun!" he insisted as if he truly cared.

In my mind, I knew I was being distracted. I believe they were up to something. When I heightened my senses, I noticed that the man seated beside me had his left arm hidden deliberately under a large folder he was carrying. It was as if he was grabbing on to something that he did not want other people to see. Apparently in the midst of the distraction, he was after the cheap mobile phone in my pocket. Quickly, I held on to it like a precious gem (though it is admittedly a crappy phone.) From what I just witnessed, I knew that I was dealing with the notorious Dura Gang at that point.

Their modus is simple: they're gonna place a disgusting spit on your clothes and use it as a distraction while they unknowingly loot you of your belongings. Thanks to my instinct, it foretold that they were up to no good even at the time I first laid my chinky eyes on them. Because of it, I was able to become cautious with their every move. Being not able to get anything from me in spite of their akting na akting effort, I saw the disappointment in their faces. Though I would like to bring out the Jack Bauer in me, it was not wise. With their muscular bodies, I might end up getting decimated. So I came up with a smart alternative to vent my anger for the unfortunate fate of my favorite polo tainted with their ghastly and possibly disease bearing saliva.

When I reached my destination, I asked the driver to stop. Before disembarking, I thought it was funny how all of it transpired in a short three minute ride. They maybe quick but I outsmarted them. As I stood on the sidewalk full of people, I saw one member of the Dura Gang looked back at me as the jeep sped away. Like a kid bully, I stuck out my tongue at him as if saying "Belat!" When I saw the startled response on his face, I wished I have a video camera to record it.

Letting Go Of Their Dying Son

2011-09-26T16:03:00.000+07:00

This is the case of a 5 year old male patient who was rushed to the hospital after he had a seizue. He was a known case of bronchial asthma. From a fairly common medical illness, it surprisingly led him in a state of coma.

The sudden commotion near the hospital entrance caught everyone's attention. A young boy, seemingly unconscious, was quickly being carried inside the ER. Once placed in bed, he was immediately examined. His lips and extremities were extremely pale. Aside from the cyanois, his body was cold to touch. Fearing that he may have already died, his vital signs were checked. His heart was racing fast. He presented with labored breathing. Rales and wheezes were heard all over his lungs. Though reactive to light, his pupils were unequal. He was totally unresponsive to command and pain. From the look of it, the patient was comatose.

With her voice trembling, the mother informed, "Nangisay po sya bigla habang papunta kami ing ospital para ipa-checkup sya dahil gumagrabe nga ang hika na."

With his respiration turning worse, the patient was intubated. While IV drip and other therapeutic modalities were being done, his parents look at him with despair. It was as if they knew that the prognosis of their son was bad. Though still early to tell at that time, the boy appeared to be clinically brain dead.

After a visit from the neurologist the following morning, a diagnosis was made --- anoxic encephalopathy. It is a grave neurological condition brought about by lack of oxygen to the brain. The mortality for such illness is high. As time passed by, the patient underwent several examinations. The result of the EEG was ominous. His brain activity was isoelectric or flat. Other tests revealed that the damage to the brain was severe and irreversible. The patient was in an obvious vegetative state. To expect him to wake up was like expecting a mobile phone to turn on without a battery. Sad but true., his road to recovery was nil.

"May pag-asa pa po ba ang anak ko?" the distraught father asked the dreaded question.

In a hopeless case, the answer to such brings nothing but unbearable pain. To respond to such question is extremely difficult. It is like putting a stake to the already grieving hearts of the patient's family. For the doctor, it is facing the regretful fact that not all patients can be cured no matter what. Yet, pain happens when you care. That's why, one should bravely face the undeniable truth.

A week passed. For the parents, it was the longest week of their lives. In the four corners of the ICU, time seemed to have stood still. Their son continued to deteriorate. The signs of a fatal outcome were already conclusive. Basically, the patient was already incapable of sustaining life on his own. Without the machines, tubes and medicines, he was practically lifeless. If the time comes his heart stops, resuscitating him would be impractical. Wanting not to prolong their agony, the parents were asked to consider signing a DNR form.

Nothing saddens me more than handling a document with the words "Do Not Resuscitate" and asking the patient's family to sign it. To impose it is like permanently locking the door of hope. But there are instances it needs to be done such as in the patient's situation. The parents were apprehensive at first. Their hesitation was understandable. No parent could endure not helping his child in the brink of death. Yet, reality showed that the young boy's case never look promising from the start. To still expect something good out of it may cause more frustrations and pain. After awhile, the parents were able to accept their son's fate. They agreed to do what was logical but hurtful. With heavy hearts and tearful eyes, they signed the DNR order.

"Ipapaubaya ko na ho sa Dios ang anak ko. Mabigat man sa kalooban ko, tanggap ko na ang pagkawala nya," the bereaved father said. His expression almost trance like. On the other hand, the mother requested that may she immediately embrace her son right after he expires. She reasoned, the multiple tubes connected to his body had been hindering her from hugging her son ever since.

The following day, the patient's vital signs dwindled. His cardiac arrest became impending. As the parents were witnessing their son's brave battle to cling on to life, their eyes reflected that they knew his final moment had come. It did not take long for the young boy to expire. The day after signing the DNR form, it seemed like the patient was just waiting for his parents to finally let go of him. When the young boy's heart went asystole, it was expected that his parents were deeply hurt as if their hearts were crushed into pieces. What was unexpected on that moment was I becoming once again overwhelmed by one painful reality. Despite putting all your knowledge and effort in curing the sick, still not all of them can be saved. When all tubes were taken out from the patient's lifeless body, his mother's request was granted. She got to lovingly embrace her son one last time.

Another MRT Incident

2011-09-24T10:13:00.000+07:00

I dreaded riding the MRT one day after the infamous bus bombing along Makati. With every public place on heightened alert, I was sure that I have to endure the tumultuous task of waiting in a long line of passengers submitting themselves for a rigrorous security check. True enough, the ambiance at the MRT Taft station was toxic as a great number of people are lining up just to get to their destination. It was ironic to witness how many paranoid commuters chose to troop to the MRT when it may be the supposed next target of another terrorist attack since bombing a bus had already been exhausted. Likewise, it was funny seeing the security guards being more keen in their search for everyone's belongings. I bet that in a few weeks time they would be back in their old ways of checking our bags--- by merely poking the inside with a stick or nonchalantly pressing the electronic gadget that make those annoying bleeping noise.Cue in Jack Bauer's voice: The following takes place between 4:00 pm and 5:00 pm. Events occur in real time.

Taft Ave. Station

After almost 30 minutes of waiting in a long queue just to pass through security, I was finally waiting for the train at the platform. Beside me was a cute morena girl who was holding a pouch containing her laptop. Like water overflowing from a basin, tears from her lovely eyes came running down her cheeks. As she wiped her drenched eyes with a Kleenex, I was baffled why she was crying in public. In an effort to find solace, she embraced her laptop tightly. My gut feeling told me she was probably heart broken. Yet with her manner of holding on to her gadget, I also had the crazy idea that she was possibly frustrated with her poor score in Plants Vs. Zombies. Her pain seemed immeasurable for she was not able to control her emotion. I was terrified that she may be entertaining the grim though of killing herself by jumping when the MRT passes by. At that instance, I felt the desire to offer her to hold my hand for comfort or any of my body parts for that matter.

Ayala Station

Standing in front of me was an effeminate gay guy whose hair was long, curly but dry. From his revealing see through feminine garment, I was able to pry what seemed to be a pair of rolled up socks acting as his makeshift boobs. It did not take long before the tranny noticed that I was staring intently at his queer pectoral enhancement. His face, laced with an overwhelming amount of cosmetics, glistened. With a lascivious smile, he looked back at me, probably thinking I was admiring his counterfeit breasts. While it was true I was admiring him, it was on a different note. Like many other homosexuals, I appreciate the fact that he cares for the environment. The tranny knew how to recycle by putting an old pair of medyas into another use.

Boni Ave. Station

The MRT became fully packed. I was terrified when the tranny disembarked. Solemnly, I prayed that as he muscled his way out of the thick crowd, may one of the socks on his chest never fall out of his dress. I was thinking, it would be a great misfortune for everyone seeing a bakla with just "one breast."

At the moment, not even a tea cup chihuahua would freely fit in the passenger filled train. A newly embarked Middle Eastern man in office suit stood in front of me. Out of nowhere, an overpowering aroma polluted the surrounding. The source of the befouling smell comparable to asibuyas came from the Arab national facing me. Despite his prim and dapper get up, his repugnant body emission was undeniable. His biological offensive weaponry was far more lethal than the explosive device that partially demolished the bus at Makati. Despite being several feet away, other passengers were covering their noses in an effort to subdue themselves from inhaling what I call the Arab's triple s--- sinister sibuyas smell. As time passed by, I was on the verge of passing out from continuous exposure to the existing noxious body odor. With my eyeballs already rolling upward, I was terrified I may suddenly lose consciousness in public. Luckily, the MRT operator paged that the train has just arrived at the Shaw Boulevard station.

Shaw Blvd. Station

After wrestling my way out of the thick crowd of commuters, I tried to sniff much air that I could since I had long deprived myself of oxygen while face to face with the foul smelling Arab. For being able to pull through, I felt waves of indescribable joy as if I were a person who was given a second chance in life. I experienced an overwhelming relief that I was able to escape the dilemma of being in close proximity to a man with a smell that would even offend a taong grasa.

In Honor Of Madam Auring

2011-09-20T09:35:00.000+07:00

If there is one showbiz personality I terribly miss these days, it is Madam Auring. Yes, the famed fortune teller who looks like a wax figure. Her clairvoyant skills may not be at par with Nostradamus. But it is not her supernatural power to predict the future I am a fan of. What I am most fascinated about Madam Auring is her knack for eccentric schemes to generate publicity. With this, it became undeniable --- no celebrity can match her entertainment value. In the midst of those boring love teams, celebrity feuds and scandalous affairs, Madam Auring is a breath of fresh air in the world of local show business.

When it comes to gimmicks, the resume of Madam Auring boasts of the strange and the unusual. What others think as inconceivable and immoral, she consummated with utmost impunity. Who could forget that once in this nation existed a formidable love team involving a then 64 year old Madam Auring and a then 20 years young Archie. Their May December affair was such a hit, it even toppled the similarly strange tandem of Jimboy and Mahal. With a much talked about team up, Madam Auring and her boy toy Archie hugged the limelight as if they were Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. Showing they were madly in love, the two even held hands and gave each other passionate stares while being interviewed. And at time, maybe to induce vomiting, they would lock lips if they were asked to. Later on, Archie admitted in a talent search that their romantic liaison was merely a sham. Up to this day, it makes me wonder if Archie had fully recovered from the psychological trauma of his ghastly experience with Madam Auring.

When the Madam Auring-Archie issue fizzled, the celebrity fortune teller once again shocked the whole country like we were never shocked since Kris Aquino admitted she had STD. At age 64 when most women have already undergone menopause, Madam Auring audaciously announced in public that she was pregnant. Armed with a bogus ultrasound report, she bravely confessed in a talk show that she was conceiving the child fathered by Archie. In a show of unimaginable confidence, Madam Auring challenged her former lover, "Hoy, Archie, panagutan mo tong nasa sinapupunan ko!" Of course, everyone knew she was bluffing. No one took her revelation seriously. But in my mind, what Madam Auring did was pure genius. It made history. It was absolutely outrageous. Like a ray of sunshine on a gloomy day, the horrible thought of Madam Auring getting pregnant never fails in tickling my funny bones.

Unknown to many, Madam Auring is multi-talented. Aside from being a manghuhula, she is also an actress and a recording artist. As a thespian, she appeared mostly in cameo roles in films and television. Despite the bit exposures, her flamboyant presence alone merits chuckles from the audience. Two years ago, she embarked on a career as a novelty singer. Like other female celebrities desperate to be noticed, Madam Auring did the unthinkable in making the music videos for her songs "May Asim Pa" and "Mamasa-masa." She went daring and sexy. By wearing a bikini, she showed her flabby, wrinkled and senile physique that even my dead lolo would not appreciate.

Madam Auring is a freak of nature. After a series of botox and cosmetic surgeries, she basically looks like a mutant granny. Unlike other hypocritical celebrities, Madam Auring does not hide her penchant for facial reconstruction. She emphatically reasoned out, "Siyempre no, para maganda pa din ako sa paningin ng mga boylets. May asim pa ko no!" With this statement, there is no denying Madam Auring is a flirt. For someone who's already a grandmother acting like this, she is indeed a rare human specimen. As a matter of fact, it will not be a surprise on my part (though God forbids) if Madam Auring makes a sex video of her own just to stage a comeback. Now merely relegating herself in offering fortune telling services , I honestly miss her presence in showbiz talk shows and sitcoms. For a showbiz legend, she does not deserve such fate. Like in the scene from the Titanic where Rose was pleading for the boat to return to save her after the ship sank, I want Madam Auring to hear me plead with all my heart --- "Come back! Come back! Come back!"

Best I Ever Had

2011-09-16T09:25:00.000+07:00

Several years ago, I was apathetic when it comes to dogs. The only thing about these furry creatures that I care about has something to do with a method in copulation. But I had aways wanted to own one, probably to experience what it was like to have a personal pet. Among the many canine breeds there are, pugs usually catch my fancy. Despite being ugly as hell, there is something about pugs that I feel connected with.

In 2005, an eight year old male pug arrived in our home. Bought from a previous owner, he was aptly named after the Sylvester Stallone movie character Rambo. Unlike other pugs that tend to go overweight, Rambo was skinny like a fashion model suffering from bulimia. His nutritionally-deprived physique was caused by his past master's negligence in taking care of him. It was like love at first sight, almost bordering on bestiality. In spite of having eight other dogs in our household, Rambo became my mutt of choice. His wrinkled face, flat nose and big eyes highly reminded me of my favorite celebrity midget Mahal. Thus, I was easily enamored.

For the following years, I gave Rambo the best tlc a master could offer his pet. My first agenda was to help him put on some weight. Surprisingly, he was a voracious eater. It was not long before his frail-looking body gained more pounds to the point of becoming overweight. Maybe due to old age, Rambo possibly had andropaused therefore showing no lascivious interest to bitches (female dogs.) He was not as flirty as Madam Auring when it comes to the opposite sex. Being a future DOM, I was grooming Rambo to be a DOD (dirty old dog) but to no avail.

Rambo exhibited an extraordinarily funny dog trick. He loved to make a snoring sound when being talked to as if he was replying to what you said. Probably due to his short neck and flattened sense organ of smell, he had the annoying habit of hyperventilating during a hot climate making it appear like he was always having multiple orgasms.

Rambo believed in the saying, "Di bale ng tamad. Wag lang pagod." He seldom barked unless our other dogs do so. Taking a nap was his ideal past time. He slept a lot to the point that I already suspected him of having wet dreams about my hairless legs. He was more of an amo to me than I am to him for he always enjoyed the luxury of me massaging his bloated tummy every night. Unlike our other dogs, he was not playful nor an attention whore. Yet he showed an infectious charm that caught the fancy of people from our village neighborhood to the internet (his photos are always the most comment among our dogs.) Rambo was more than a pet. He was my best friend.

On the night of September 13, Rambo's health suddenly deteriorated. He became awfully quiet, languishing in one corner. He occasionally showed signs of paradoxical breathing which I first thought of as a simple hiccup (sinok.) I was clueless that a life threatening illness was already ravishing his aging body.

The following day, I was off from work. Early morning, I noticed the unrelenting discomfort that was dominantly etched in Rambo's face. His eyes were drowsy presumably from a previous troubling sleepless night that he just had. He appeared listless and continued to exhibit the occassional abnormal type of breathing. He refused to eat and was awake all day. Extremely worried about his plight, I began giving him veterinary meds orally. I rigorously monitored his status all throughout.I decided to bring him to the vet the next day after work if he will not respond to treatment.

On September 15, I sighed a relief when Rambo began taking minute amount of solid food. But still, his aura remained restless. When I was about to leave home for work, I affectionately patted his head and told him to get well. Rambo tried to respond via his trademark snoring reply but was already weak to do so. His droopy eyes looked at me as if he was trying to communicate something. Then I waved my usual goodbye to him which I did not know it would become my last.

Jut after lunch, my mother called me up, sobbing while relaying the news that Rambo had passed away. Encroached with deep seated sadness, I became catatonic at my work place most of the time. The harsh and painful reality of losing a pet that has become a long time companion set in. I took an under time from work. As soon as I got home, I immediately went to see the remains of my beloved dog. Enclosed in an empty sack, his eyes were still open. It was as though he did not want to leave. I gave Rambo a last gentle pat on his cold lifeless body. It came to my mind that he probably chose to die while I was away to spare me the agony of seeing him go.

At a vacant lot not far from our house, I dug a grave for Rambo. Before pouring the mud unto his cadaver, I looked at my dearly departed dog for the last time. Then I remembered the last glance he gave that morning before I went to work--- the glance that seemed to be conveying a message. That, if only he could speak, he probably wanted to say, "Thank you for taking care of me."

After burying him, while standing on his makeshift tomb, I offered my favorite dog a short eulogy. In my personal thoughts, I said: "I am proud that you have fought a brave battle. I am sorry that I was not successful in helping you overcome your illness. My heartfelt gratitude for spending your life with me. You have been a bundle of joy. All my memories with you will never be forgotten. Likewise thank you, Rambo, for being a good pet. It is now time for you to find a new home."

Delivering A Baby Inside A Taxi

2011-09-12T09:47:00.000+07:00

This is the case of a 23 year old female patient who untimely delivered her baby inside a taxi. What seems to happen only in the movies and on television became a reality. And by chance, I played a role in helping the patient bring out her baby in the middle of a busy street.

Weary and fatigued from the previous 24 your clinical duty, I was finally on my home. Because of the sudden outpouring of heavy rain, the streets were terribly jammed in traffic. Unwilling to be stuck for a long time, I decided to hurtled away from the traffic infested area. After several minutes of walking, I suddenly witnessed an on going commotion. As if there was a celebrity, a number of people had swarmed around a taxi stuck in traffic. With the cab visibly worried seated in front, a pregnant passenger at the backseat was seemingly in labor.

"Misis, wag mo munang iire yan at baka lumabas! Tumakbo na yung mister mo diyan sa ospital para magtawag ng doktor!" screamed a female spectator while leaning on the car window.

After taking a peek inside the cab, my instinct told me that the pregnant lady may be about to deliver. Her face was extremely agitated. Her expression of pain showed the inevitable. She appeared as if she was about to meet an impending doom. At that moment, she desperately needed someone to help her. After personally offering my assistance to her, I clearly saw in her eyes that she could not hold on for long. Probably fully effaced and dilated, her delivery seemed imminent. From the look of it, the woman had no choice but to give birth right there inside the taxi.

"Lalabas na po talaga!" her troubling voice uttered. The patient now lying supine.

Being in a small and uncomfortable space inside the cab made it extremely difficult to carry out the upcoming task. The complete absence of any device that would ease her labor did not help either. Time was ticking. Help coming from our nearby hospital had not yet arrived. Under the woman's skirt, a sudden gush of liquid came out. Her bag of waters suddenly broke. After taking off her underwear, a portion of the fetal scalp was visibly seen out of the vulva. There was already crowning. At that juncture, I knew I need not wait. I have to be the one to make the delivery.

"Kelangan dito na kayo manganak. Misis, iire nyo nang buong puwersa!" the pregnant passenger was instructed.

Using the towel I got from the cab driver, I supported her perineum as the mother bore down with all her might. It was futile. Despite the series of bearing downs, her baby had a hard time coming out. Fearing for dystocia, I anxiously checked for any fetal distress. On the other hand, the woman looked lethargic as if all her physical strengths were sucked out. With her forehead beaded with sweat, she was encouraged to continue pushing. To avoid any complications, she just had to.

Tired and noticeably shaken, the mother made one long and enduring effort to push her baby out. Gradually, the baby's head slide out of her vagina. Drenched in amniotic fluid, the face became visible. Despite having no gloves on, I gently clamped on the baby's neck using my fingers. With such maneuver employing my bear hands, I anchored the fragile newborn as he slowly came out of the womb. After placing the baby on his mother's belly, the placenta was subsequently delivered.

The baby was a boy. He was listless at first. Afraid that there may be a problem, I continuously tapped the sole of his foot to elicit a response. Luckily, he uttered his first cry. Despite languishing in pain and fatigue, the mother looked relieved as she lovingly stared at her seemingly healthy newborn baby boy lying on her tummy. Thereafter, the mother and baby were transported to the hospital for further evaluation and management. It was the last time I saw them until a few months later.

In the outpatient clinic, a woman carrying her infant at the waiting area had been staring at me for quite awhile. After they were called, she expressed her intent to seek my consult for her baby among the many physicians present. As if waves of excitement penetrated in the deepest core of her being, she seated happily in front of my desk.

"Kayo po ang nagpaanak sa kanya," the woman informed me while showing her child.

"Yung sa taxi," she continued. Her voice becoming exultant and delightful.

With a joyful glow in her face, the mother revealed, "Pinagtanong ko po sa mga doktor sa ob kung sino kayo. Ang pangalan mo po ang napili naming mag-asawa na ibigay sa kanya."

True enough when I looked at the patient's chart, I noticed a familiar name written on it. Albert. Same as mine. At that instance, I felt happy to see that the baby who was delivered inside the taxi on that fateful day was now a healthy six month old boy. As I gazed closely into her cute and gentle face, I have never known until that time that my name could be so innocent and beautiful.

The Monologue Of Maria Ozawa

2011-09-10T09:58:00.000+07:00

My name is Maria Ozawa. People also call me Miyabi. I'm a single woman of European Japanese descent. With the sophisticated Eurasian features that I have, I am world famous for what I do. I work as an actress in Japan. My extensive filmography includes Black Gang Bang, Meath Note, Obscene Nymphomaniac, Lets Do It At School and Non Stop Orgasm. Judging by the titles of my work, you can tell that I'm not your typical movie star. Unlike them, my thespian skills involve merely the acts of undressing and moaning. Yes, I am a porn star. In my country, they call me their av idol. For many perverts worldwide, I am the constant object of their erection.

For the uninitiated, you may have heard my name from your circle of horny friends. You may have also chanced upon my naked image on bootleg dvds and sex oriented websites. Since the time I embarked on my career of fornicating in front of the camera, my popularity surged not just in Japan but worldwide. In my line of work, it is no surprise to learn that I already have sex with hundreds of men, mostly Japanese. Knowing how peculiar the people of Japan are in satisfying their lust, I seem to have done it all as an av idol. Aside from the common boy-girl intercourse, I have been exposed to every dirty sex act there is.

In numerous occasions, I cater to multiple partners simultaneously. Apart from the usual penetration, my Japanese co-actors love seeing me undergo a squirting and soaking wet ejaculation after being finger banged violently. Besides my vagina, my poor lovely porcelain skinned face has been subjected at times to bukkake --- an act of perversion wherein a group of men unload their massive amount of jizz unto my face until it looks like a bowl of misua soup. Thankfully, my face has not gotten pregnant from the copious amount of sperm it received through the years.

Aside from Japanese men, I have experienced getting kinky with black men. Known for their anaconda like penises, I love having these burly chocolate faced men as my on screen partners. Once in a while, I welcome this "big" change from the usual miniature packages of my fellow Japanese. Like most porn stars, I also have to perform lesbian sex scenes. Unlike men, girls are soft and gentle. And for those whose fetish is watching girls masturbate, I likewise romance myself with my fingers and inanimate objects that vibrate. To cater to the sexual fantasies of my millions of fans, I have to do all the possible slutty, obscene and erotic acts one could imagine. And now that my money making genital is devoid of censorship, my fans are enjoying fully every part of me on screen.

For the moralists, they have already forsaken me for what I do. They see me as a degenerate slut who allows herself to be ravished for the sake of money. It may be true that my soul may already be condemned to burn in hell for having helped a lot of men reach "heaven." Yet, I always believe that it is my destiny to become a porn star. After all, I am blessed with a face of an angel and a body designed by the devil. For this, it is my fate to rock the foundation of men's moral fibers. It is my calling to help single men have sex... with themselves. It is my mission to cater to one's lust. I am Maria Ozawa --- a proud porn star. In Japanese, watashi wa Maria Ozawa des --- hontoni ibaru av idol.

When A Young Girl Lost Her Will To Live

2011-09-06T09:25:00.000+07:00

This is the case of a 13 year old female patient who was rushed to the hospital after she deliberately overdosed herself with insulin. In spite of her very young age, hers was an obvious attempt to end her life. All because of a terminal illness which had become too unbearable for her to handle.

When the patient came, she was a heart rending picture of helplessness. As if she was slowly drowning in the middle of a sea, her effort of breathing was hard and tumultuous. In an attempt to catch more air, her respiration was fast, deep and troublesome. Her consciousness was clouded. Unable to speak or understand words, her sufferings were merely expressed by her troubled eyes.

"Ininject niya ho ang halos kalahati nito," informed her mother while holding an almost empty bottle of regular insulin.

The cloud of mystery behind her distressful condition became evidently clear. Despite the undeniable reflection of second thought in her face, the mother bravely confessed that her daughter intentionally injected herself a great amount of the anti-diabetic agent. Because of that, the patient was on the verge of an apparent hypoglycemic shock.

With vigorous medical intervention, her further deterioration was halted. The fatal signs of her attack have finally ceased. Far different from what she looked prior, the young girl became normal. As I stared into her gloomy face, I became curious on what could have pushed someone so young on the brink of self destruction.

"Bakit mo nagawa yun, anak? Di mo na ba mahal si mommy? Iiwan mo na ko?" asked her teary eyed mother.

Her daughter did not answer. Instead, streams of tears rolled down her youthful cheeks. Like water coming out of the faucet, the tears continuously flowed as if unleashing the emotional burden within. After awhile, she became silent. Despite the emotionless face, the obvious grief in her eyes showed that the patient was going through something. For her to desire to end it all, her present pain may have become too hard for her.

On the following day, her eyes were tired, puffy and red from constant crying. Her situation became clear --- ESRD or end stage renal disease secondary to Type 1 Diabetes. At 13 years young, her pair of kidneys had already stopped functioning. The damage caused by her illness became too much for her body. Without the aid of a regular dialysis, she may not even make it to her 14th birthday. The unimaginable physical sufferings and emotional pain together with the financial toll it has on her low income single parent mother were a heavy burden which the young girl refused to carry anymore.

"Ayoko na pong pahirapan pa ang mommy ko. Lagi po kasi siyang namumublema sa ipangda-dialysis ko, " revealed the troubled young girl to the resident psychiatrist.

For people who are living normal healthy lives, they may forsake her for what she did. The young girl may never be understood. People may never understand the helplessness of a person inflicted with a fatal sickness. They may never understand the despair that led her to doubt her self worth. They may never understand the hopelessness which made her lost her will to live. For years, she fought a brave battle. She had probably given up.

I know I have no power to change her present morbid disposition in a snap. All I could hope for is for the patient to know acceptance. From the many smiling faces of terminally ill patients I have seen, some are even children, I know that a life of disability could still be fruitful and worth living. By her learning how to embrace her sickness, she may learn how to smile again.

Likewise, may she learn to take courage once more. For her battle is not her over. It may be long. It may be tiresome. There may come a time she may once again surrender. During such critical time, may she call on our greatest ally. In the face of adversity, He shall come. As based on the context of a song from Coldplay --- His lights will guide you home and ignite your bones. And He will try to fix you.

The SM Foodcourt Incident

2011-09-03T09:55:00.000+07:00

The incessant rain outside had prolonged my stay inside a mall food court during a lunch break. Being a weekday, there were only a few people who were having their mid day meal at the said venue. Not far from where I was seated was an old pregnant woman napping. She had messed up hair, making it appear that she just came from a long bout of wild sex. She was unconscious since I started then finished my lunch. Judging from the manner she was sleeping, she could have had delivered her baby without her even knowing it.

I was startled when a small, chubby, and fair skinned adult female sat in front of me. She looked at me with delight as if she had just seen a celebrity. With gusto, she uttered, "Doc Albert, kamusta ka na?"

At first, I thought she was an avid reader of my blog. Being semi famous, I sometimes recieved such greeting from strangers. Conspicuously, she kept on looking at the physician's vest I was wearing. It occured to me that it was where most likely she got my name. Instantly, I become suspicious that she was up to something. I was wary of the tea I was drinking--- thinking that she may put Ativan to anesthetized me and violate my virginal body thereafter.

"Naging pasyente mo ko nung isang buwan. Tanda mo?" she cunningly informed me.

"Buti na lang nakita kita. Ipagkakatiwala ko kasi tong dala kong pera. Kelangan ko kasing sunduin yung pinsan ko, baka mawala o maholdap ako." the lady who was probably in her mid 30's added while showing her small pouch containing bundles of money.

"Pero puwedeng mahiram yang cellphone mo. Kelangan ko kasi sa pagkontak sa pinsan ko. Babalik ko din naman agad sa yo. Anyway, nasa yo naman tong pera as insurance." she continued.

At that instance, I knew that I was being conned using the Budol Budol scheme. Therefore, I played along with the scammer. I then spoke with much vigor as if confirming her rigged story,"Ay oo, ikaw si Manilyn di ba? Kamusta ka na?"

With hesitation and bewilderment, she nodded to affirm. To shame her further, I implicated,"Bakit di ka na bumalik? Positive yung test mo, Manilyn. May nakitang cancer cells."

Confused, the female con artist tried to change the topic, "Sir...Doc... baka naghihintay na yung pinsan ko. Baka puede kong mahiram yung cellphone mo tapos iwan ko tong bag ko."

With a devious smile, I left her after begging off, "Sorry, Manilyn. Di ako pumapatol sa Budol Budol."

As I walked away, I glanced upon her for the last time, still seated on the table where I was. She looked in shock and in awe. She seemed to be in deep thought. Aside from me being straightforward, she was also probably curious why I chose to name her Manilyn. I tried to look for a mall security guard nearby to report the said con woman but to no avail.

Stupidity has no place in this world especially if you reside in Metro Manila. I reckon the fact that there are many who fall prey to scams just because they are not using their brains. As a result of greed and lack of common sense, we have heard sad stories of poor people who were duped by cellphone and online scams, Salisi gang, Laglag Barya gang and in this case the Budol Budol. Aside from incarcerating these felons, I also encourage the victims to check into a medical facility where they can rehabilitate their brains. By the way, the female scammer was named as such not because Manilyn Reynes was my favorite That's Entertainment member. Manilyn was short for"Manilynlang."

Why The Hell Do They Have An Album

2011-08-30T09:13:00.000+07:00

Gone are the days when a record album is made only by true singers and artists. Regardless of the lack of musical talent, any celebrity at present can secure a recording contract. As long as their famous faces are plastered on the cover, some of their albums even out sell those of legitimate recording stars. After recently scouring a record bar, I was flabbergasted with the influx of singer wanna be's among our local celebrities. Days after the said visit, one baffling question lingered which has caused me many sleepless nights. That is, why the hell do these people have an album!?

1. Jericho Rosales

You gotta admire the fighting spirit of Jericho Rosales. After his venture as a rock star via his band named Jeans became a dismal failure, he takes on a different path as a balladeer. If only his fighting spirit comes with talent and originality, he may find a niche in the music industry. Unfortunately, not everyone could be Jared Leto.

2. Deither Ocampo

No wonder Deither Ocampo is friends with Jericho Rosales. If not annoying us with their stint as the Hunks, they are polluting our world with their crappy music. Through his band called Blow, Deither shares the same delusion that he could be a rock star. As a rock star wanna be, the only good thing about his band is its name. Appropriately, their music blows.

3. Gabby Concepcion

Cruel as it may sound, his acting skill is inversely proportional to his talent in singing. Releasing his own album after a prolonged period of absence in our country makes me wanna wish that Gabby Concepcion should have never come back. For a man just starting to be a singer in his 40's, this may be a result of what they call mid life crisis.

4. Bea Alonzo

I have nothing against Bea Alonzo until this happens. As if not generating enough fame and money being a movie star, she still had to record an album. Knowing that she is not a natural singer, Bea could have refused and save me the time of including her in this notorious list. But sometimes greed could be overwhelming.

5. Robin Padilla

It is so surreal how someone who normally talks like a drunkard could have a record album. Unless Robin Padilla wants to put his listeners into a state of coma, he has no business of being in the music industry. Having a boses lasing, the idea of Robin as a singer is as bad as having Royette for a brother.

6. Manny Calayan

Maybe he is taking a hallucinogen, Dr. Manny Calayan is now offering his "expertise" in music aside from medicine. His album entitled Calayan Duet With The Stars allegedly boasts of his innate talent in singing. Likewise, it features some of the most prolific singers of the country. Aside from the smorgasbord guest stars, the album is also a compilation of his all time favorite songs. But wait! There's more! The album also comes with a gift certificate to any of his clinics (just in case you feel sorry for buying the cd later on.)

7. Marian Rivera

Even if she keeps on doing the same Marimar dance routine up to this day, you gotta hand it to Marian Rivera for coming out with at least one original track in her album. In lieu of the barrage of revivals in the local music scene, Marian is a beacon of hope for the dying remake laden OPM industry. For this, long live Marian. (By the way, I'm being sarcastic.)

8. Aljur Abrenica

For reasons beyond my comprehension, I wonder how could a ham actor, as I was told, could even qualify as a singer. Known for his strange preoccupation with body building, Aljur Abrenica may be spending more time in the gym than honing her skills in acting and singing. Being a muscle freak, I can only forgive Aljur for having an album if instead of ballads he sings songs like "Mag-exercise Tayo Tuwing Umaga."

9. Gretchen Barretto

When her record turned gold, I almost contemplated on committing euthanasia. Her past two albums entitled Unexpected and Complicated best describes her singing career. Truly, it is unexpected for Gretchen Barretto to become a singer. Likewise, it is complicated for the public to hear her sing. Honestly, I was her biggest fan during her career as a bold star during the 90's. But I have to spare myself from this one.

10. Kris Aquino With Baby James

It's creepy --- the way Kris Aquino is shoving her son Baby James unto our faces. From tv commercials, the mother and son tandem has invaded the record bars. In one interview during an album promo mall tour, Kris proudly attested, "Tatlong oras nga kong walang pagod sa pagpirma dahil sa dami ng bumili ng album namin ni Baby James." If this statement were indeed true, I now know why we are still a third world nation.

My Boyfriend Is A Sex Addict

2011-08-27T09:51:00.001+07:00

Hi there, Doc!

Thanks for the great advices to your letter-senders. I always read your blogs and here I am trying to find answers with my questions.

Just call me Vixenne. I'm 24 with a boyfriend of 35. Obviously age does not matter as we are in a relationship for 7 years now.

Well, just like your other readers, my questions also involve sex. The last time we had sex was really great. We checked in a class-A motel for 5 hours yet we had 7 rounds. I am so amazed with my man with his strength not to mention his greatness in bed. As in ang galing nya sa kama!

After our first round in bed, he took me to the bathroom, had some intimate water play for less than 10 minutes then he took me back to the bed and we did it again! I mean, how was that? How was he able to do it again for only less than 10 minutes interval?! That reminded me of our sexcapade 2 years ago. After 5 minutes of our first lengthy-and-oh-so-steamy round, he dig on me again! It was somewhat rape because I was hesitant and trying to stop him on getting over on me. But the truth is, it was all my drama because I gave him the lure of experiencing it that way, too - on coercively penetrating in my love canal - because he has always been gentle on bed since Day 1 except when he turns "mad" and "red" (oh how I love it! I love being conquered!). And must I tell you, he sure did love my act!

Alright back to my question, how is my man able to have another round (really with ejaculation) just after 5 to 10 minutes of ejaculation? As far as I know, resolution phase for a man lasts for like 1 to 2 hours (while for some 12 to 24 hours [!!!] as I've researched). So how come his resolution phase is only good for less than 10 minutes?!

When we were younger, he wasn't like this. His resolution phase is safe to say normal but as he gets older, he becomes more powerful. When I asked him about it, he cannot as well give a sensible answer but instead he'd say he REALLY, REALLY can't get enough of me and I am the one who gives him strength because, according to him, I am very, VERY, very yummy, delectable, and hot in bed with a bonus that I am young for him and my breasts are in big(ger!) size (fact is, he calls me his personal whore whenever we're on bed and I so love being called one because it makes me feel so great in satisfying him).

There you go, Doc. I hope you can answer my question. Oh I know you can. You're that good.

Thanks, thanks a lot!

xo,

Vixenne

Dear Vixenne,

I was having a second thought in replying to your email for four reasons. One, I don't even consider it as a problem. Two, I have a feeling you were just making me jealous knowing that I've been single and hand partying for the past two years. Three, your email is yet another of a sexual kind which my immaculate mind is trying to shy away from. For the raunchy emails asking for advice that I've been getting, it seems my letter senders think my brain is shaped like a dick. Four, you fail to follow the standard protocol for female letter senders--- attach a personal bikini photo. The said image will merely serve for the purpose of erection, I mean, identification. Nonetheless, for being a long time follower of my blog as evident by you using the term love canal to describe your unmentionable, I decided to offer my dirty thoughts with regards to your issue. I have several theories why your boyfriend is like an Energizer Bunny when it comes to shagging.

Theory no.1: Your boyfriend is fat. Based on my observation, the horniest creatures on the face of this planet are the fat people. Whether male or female, chunky people seem to have a big appetite for sex. I believe it has something to do with the massive lard in their body. Biochemically speaking, cholesterol is a percursor for our sex hormones. So you can basically imagine the libido they have.Wanting to have such libido myself, it is for this reason I plan to put on weight like that of a hippopotamus. The only thing that is stopping me is the thought of missing my testicles for a long time. I remember my fat neighbor who did not even know he already had an infected scrotum due to constant scratching. He missed out on it because his swollen nut sack has been buried in fat his entire life. By the way, that chubby neighbor of mine is a hornball.

Theory no. 2: Your boyfriend is on pills. To have such tremendous tenacity in bed, unknown to you, he may be popping some Viagra or synthetic testosterone. When confronted, he may deny this to save his manly image. Better observe than for some adverse effects seen when one is taking these performance enhancers such as thinning hair, increased body mass and acne. If you fail to see these tell tale signs, another way to check is to grab his penis when he least expects it. Take for instance, just after sex, while you two are watching Pokwang on tv, grope his jun jun all of a sudden and quickly feel its girth. If he is having a boner at the sight of Pokwang on tv, chances are, he is taking something.

Theory no.3: You are fuckable. A man who has Maria Ozawa for a partner will most likely last several rounds. Given that I have someone irresistibly hot for a lover, I'll surely shag her to the point when her uterus may already prolapse. So if you happen to have an erotic physique, it is understandable that your man has only one thing in mind that he wants to do... you.

Theory no. 4: Your boyfriend has a natural pornstar resilience. Aside from their seismic salamis, pornstars are famous for their sexual agility. Like these people, your partner's weapon of mass erection could be attributed to genetics.

For a relationship to work, you must keep the fights clean and the sex dirty. Based on your tale, you are getting lots of dirty sex. Lucky are you for there are those unfortunate women whose vagina are already yawning from having boring sex or lack of it. If you and your man become married, you shall never worry about meat shortages. Speaking of marriage, I suggest you make "You Raise Me Up" by Josh Groban as your official theme song. With this as a background music playing during your wedding, imagine your man's penis talking to you--- that indeed you raise him up during your sex marathons in the past and hopefully in the years to come.

At your cervix,
Albert

My Email: changihok@yahoo.com

Little Things I Am Thankful For On My Birthday

2011-08-22T09:17:00.000+07:00

Thank you, President Noynoy Aquino. For the 50 year old, bald headed, and nerd looking single men who still want to hook up with beautiful girls half their age, their future to find a mate still looks promising.

Thank you, bus preacher. Your herculean effort of facing strangers everyday just to teach them about the Word Of God is never wasted. Come Judgment Day. many passengers shall indeed be saved from the fiery pits of hell after listening to what you preach, after praying with you, and after giving you their money.

Thank you, Starbucks. Your place offers a nice ambiance for hard working students to showcase their study habits in public as they sip your over priced frappuccino.

Thank you, word "kaya." By incorporating you inappropriately to every sentence spoken by many Filipinos nowadays, they sound a lot cuter.

Thank you, Gaan Text, Mega Lahat Text, Budget Text and all the text promos there are. My mobile phone is constantly updated with the latest love quotes, spam, and forwarded messages from people who have nothing better to do in life.

Thank you, Lapid Chicharon. With your sumptuous high cholesterol snack, you've proven that life is good... and short.

Thank you, mall security guard. The metal detector that you press to make a bleeping sound every time I pass by the mall entrance is music to my ears.

Thank you, breast implants. Aside from serving your aesthetic purpose, a woman having you in her chest shall never drown.

Thank you, Manny Pacquiao. For the exciting victory over Margarito, I am truly proud. For the honor you bring our country, I am truly proud. For your talent in singing, not so much.

Thank you, Mommy Dionisia. For your funny interviews and spotlight stealing antics, I always have something to look forward to besides your son's actual fight.

Thank you, videoke machine. Aside from showcasing our operatic prowess, you are an instrument in detecting people with poor musical taste.

Thank you, my penis. Without your presence, I may have to endure holding my pee as I fall in a long queue at the ladies restroom whenever I'm at the mall.

Thank you, short shorts. More than the bikini and lingerie, you will always be my choice as weapon for mass erection.

Thank you, Muslim brothers and sisters. From your makeshift stalls, I can avail of the latest phones, designer clothes, branded shoes, and blockbuster movie dvds at prices with great discounts.

Thank you, hand sanitizers used as bag accessories. I am now expecting to see powders, lotions, and combs danging outside every woman's bag in the future.

Thank you, grannies, handicaps, and indigent people. Without your presence being constantly paraded and exploited by Willie Revillame, he will never become a multi millionaire.

Thank you, shampoo commercials. You are a ray of hope for women who desire to have the long, shiny, black (and computer enhanced) hair.

Thank you, Yes FM and Love Radio. Your disc jockeys have taught me that it is normal to laugh boisterously at your own jokes no matter how unfunny they are.

Thank you, digital camera. For being a tool in producing photos that can be uploaded instantly, you have been a great help for attention whores who regularly parade their self taken photos to our faces.

Thank you, my female Facebook contacts. In spite of the massive load of senseless status messages of self promotion I see everyday, I have yet to read someone say "I'm having my regla today."

The Starbucks Incident

2011-08-19T09:51:00.000+07:00

Instead of going straight to my flat after a tiring duty, I hurtled to a Starbucks in a nearby mall. With the freakish heat frizzling my body, I decided to avail of the cool ventilation and refreshment of the said coffee place. Aside from this, I had the sudden overwhelming urge once again to observe people, especially those whose purpose at Starbucks is to satisfy their social climbing instincts (much like mine.) After a month long hiatus from dining in at my most frequented Starbucks branch, I heeded to the call of having an overpriced caffeine fix.

The first thing I noticed was the alluring presence of the new female barista. Though quite petite, she has a lovely face and possesses a pair of prominent boobs. The vastly cold temperature of the store was evident, as her nipples were doing the weather report, The contour of which were slightly embossed on her white uniform. By virtue of the new attractive barista and her two best friends, I vowed not to commit another lengthy absence from dining in at the said branch.

While queuing, a seemingly familiar face emerged behind me. Incognito with a fedora hat and large sunglasses, I later identified him to be Enchong Dee. After getting his order, he swiftly boarded his automobile.

After procuring my latte, I settled in front of the glass door watching people as they walked by. I started to engage in my favorite hobby. That is, to count all the passers by who are bakla. I have this weird theory that gays have become larger in number compared to the last decade mainly because of the many teleseryes that have polluted our local tv channels. With all those sampalan, any male kid who are exposed to such tv shows are prone to become bakla. Good thing, I grew up watching violent cartoons. I have a childhood friend who liked cartoons yet still grew as gay. It seems his kabaklaan is hereditary, for the cartoons he liked viewing at that time were Rainbow Brite and Care Bears.

My attention was directed towards a man in barong who appeared to be waiting for a client. Strangely, he was picking his nose in public. After catching a kulangot with his pinkie finger, he did the unimaginable and ate it. I have the overwhelming urge to flash in front of him a makeshift placard that says, "Masarap?" The absence of a pen and paper hindered me from doing so. The booger eater reminded me of my classmate in elementary who we fondly teased as Bon Bon Uhog, for the reason that he had the nasty habit of licking his nasal discharge whenever it dripped from his nose. I had an eerie thought that the man in barong who ate his booger might be Bon Bon, all grown up. But Bon Bon was darker. I also presumed that Bon Bon may not have reached adulthood from all the sipon he ingested.

I was startled when a group of loud English speaking teenagers sat beside my table. They were probably students of La Salle judging from the manner they mud slung Ateneo.

"You know the problem with Ateneo boys... blah... blah..." one of them muttered in disgust.

I was easily suffocated by their Paris Hilton accent. My aggressive thinking ordered me to tell them to shut up. But being an adult, I would not want to fight with a bunch of people whose only problem in life is regularly updating their Facebook status with what they are eating and all those nonsense. Instead, I sealed my sense of hearing with earphones and opted to listen to my favorite Metallica album. Ironically, the title of which is Kill 'Em All.

Although her big red framed sunglasses was covering most of her face, I recognized Maxene Magalona when she walked past me. Together with a lady friend, she went to the store's smoking area. While I gawked from afar, Maxene started puffing a cigarette as she drank her beverage. With her immaculate image in showbiz, this came as a surprise for me. But in the world of local entertainment, even the most virginal female celebrity gets knocked up in no time. As Maxene poisoned her lungs with carcinogens, I deeply thought that every human is a slave in one way or another to a vice, whether harmless or not. Like my older brother who I long disowned when he started with his vice of collecting albums of Air Supply.

My lack of sleep from the previous night had caught up on me, My body was longing for my bed. Before heading, I reminisced on the events that transpired within my three hour stay at Starbucks. Meeting the new female barista whose boobs can serve as back up in case the store's supply of milk runs out. Getting haunted by a person from my childhood past named Bon Bon Uhog. Being almost homicidal with a group of conyo teens. And witnessing Maxene Magalona have her yosi break. All in all, I counted about 26 bakla passers by. Oh, make it 27. I forgot to include Enchong Dee.

What Her Amnesiac Father Only Remembers

2011-08-16T09:31:00.000+07:00

This is the case of a 55 year old male patient who was brought for medical attention due to headache with vomiting. A few hours before the consult, the patient was involved in a motorcycle accident. In an apparent twist of fate, such incident would leave a significant change in his life and his family.

"Sabi ko nga ho dapat nagpacheck-up agad sya matapos ang aksidente," the patient's wife said in an anxious tone of voice.

During his tour of duty, the patient met an accident while riding his motorbike. Sustaining just minor scratches, he decided not to seek medical help after. A few hours later after arriving home, the wife noticed something strange ---- her husband seemingly had a hard time changing his clothes as if he were a toddler. He also complained of a headache. Likewise, he suffered from a series of watery projectile vomiting. Sensing his condition is turning worse, the wife brought the patient to the hospital.

Suspiciously, it was a case of a traumatic brain injury. CT was immediately carried out which revealed an epidural hematoma with contusions on the temporal lobe. Though his GCS was 11, he may still deteriorate if surgical intervention would not be made. With these facts, the race against time to prevent the patient from worsening is critical.

"Prep him for craniotomy. Inform the family about his condition. I'll be there within an hour," the neurosurgeon ordered.

Probably, one of the most difficult tasks of a physician is being the bearer of unfavorable news. Like surgery without anesthesia, explaining the grim state of the patient to his grieving family has been always painful. For the patient with TBI, the wife had to be informed of his husband's worsening health and the high risk procedure which need to be carried out.

"Sige ho, kung anong makakabuti sa kanya. Gawin nyo, " the wife replied, after consulting via overseas call with her daughter who was working abroad.

The surgery was successful. With his skull excavated, the patient never looked physically the same. The life threatening risks of a TBI were halted yet some complications became unfortunately evident. As if gone into thin air, the patient's memory significantly deteriorated. He became incapable of recalling past and recent events. Moreover, his motor skills diminished. Without any assistance, he was unable to carry out the usual activities of daily living.

"Sino siya? Bago siya dito?" the patient repeatedly asked his wife whenever someone would walk into his room. This, in spite of having met those people for several times.

After more than a week of hospital stay, the patient still had a difficult time of performing simple tasks. Yet slowly he was able to put his past experiences into recollection. One morning, a young woman apparently his daughter arrived from abroad to visit him. Being away from her father for the past two years since working overseas, the sadness in the daughter's eyes was visible. To see someone you love in such an unimaginable state is truly unbearable.

While dressing the patient's surgical wound, he asked from out of nowhere, "Nasa inyo pa ba yung damit na suot ko nung dinala ako dito sa ospital?"

Nonchalantly, I replied that I do not know. Seeing it just a trivial matter, I went on with my chore of cleaning his craniotomy wound. Serene and calm the patient was for a moment. Sitting not far, the daughter was observing. It was as if the patient was trying to recall something like a student trying to find out the answer to a test question.

As I was packing up the materials, the patient suddenly spoke again, stuttering yet comprehensible. Probably forgetting his daughter was just in the same room as we were, the patient pointed out, "Paboritong t-shirt ko kasi yun. Bigay sa kin ng nag-iisa kong dalaga."

While looking intently at the tv monitor in front of him, he added, "Napakabait na anak. Nagtratrabaho sya sa abroad. Napauwi nga dahil sa kin. Kanina andito sya. Sana nakilala mo."

Sitting on a sofa nearby, tears began welling up the eyes of his daughter. Wiping them off with her fingers, she was moved by an overwhelming emotion after hearing her father's loving words. In lieu of his dementia, her father was able to recall something precious. Despite being disoriented, her father was able to express his love for her. When our eyes met, all she can do was smile back, a smile that seemed happy yet so sullen. After walking out of the room, in the privacy of my own thoughts, I promised to search for that shirt by all possible means.

Luckily, the patient's shirt was found among other patients' clothes in a waste basket at the OR. Early morning the following day, I entered the the patient's room. The patient was soundly sleeping so was his daughter on the sofa. After checking his vital signs, I left a small plastic bag containing his favorite shirt near his bed side. Then I began thinking: With rehab and medications, I wish someday he would regain his strength and skills and become normal again. Already torn apart, the shirt may not be what it looked like when first given to him. Yet maybe, it would play a vital role in completely reviving his memory. If not, I am still hopeful that the patient, together with his wife and daughter, could create a new set of wonderful memories on his own.

Scared After Getting Fingered

2011-08-12T09:25:00.000+07:00

Reader ako ng blog mo, and may mga gusto lang akong tanungin. Sa'yo ko na po gustong itanong since you're a doctor and when I saw your blog, feeling ko naman sasagutin niyo ako ng maayos and with respect.I hope you'd keep this as a secret. Just call me Daisy.

Okay, I'm afraid something's wrong with me. My period's 5 days late. I want to ask, is there something wrong with me? Or am I pregnant?

I had my last period nung March 2, 2011. My cycle is usually 32-35 days. Never ako nagskip ng menstruation, and ngayon lang ulit ako nadelay ang mens. If I am sexually active, yes po. Pero never pa akong "napasok". In short, pumapayag ako na i"finger" ako ni BF. Finger lang. Never kami nagkaroon ng intercourse. I'm afraid that I might become pregnant. I'm still young, college student. So, yes, hindi pa ako ready sa mga bagay bagay about responsibility.

This April, I was fingered by my BF. We always make sure na safe kami. Kapag finifinger niya ako, he still have his clothes on. He would finger me first before I give him a hand job, to satisfy our needs. He would even wash his hands, and put some alcohol. And then after some time, saka niya lang ako pi-finger-in.

So, ayun. May nabubuntis po ba sa pagfifinger? If yes, may kaso na po ba kayong naencounter? And how much drops of semen would make a woman pregnant kung pwede 'yung mabuntis sa pagfinger? Like what I said, hindi pa po kasi ako ready, and having this menstrual delay gives me creeps. I'm always paranoid.

Oo nga pala, nung April po, medyo nagbago bago ang pagkain ko. Dahil summer, I gained weight. And nagkagulo ang sleeping habit ko. I can feel that my boobs are tender and I had a pimple for days pero it was gone na po. I have a white discharge na I always have naman before and after my menstruation. What makes me scared and think so much is that bakit wala pa rin 'yung menstruation ko. And lagi akong kinakabag, maybe because of my gastritis. Pero when I searched the internet kung symptom ba ng pregnancy ang laging pag "utot" sabi nila, oo daw. Medyo gassy kapag preggy. Pero, I can't believe na preggy ako since we always try to be safe naman. I'm having trouble thinking about these things lately. Supposedly May 2 darating ang mens ko, for the complete month. Pero May 7 na, wala pa rin. Is there something wrong with me? Or am I preggy? I hope you'd reply through e-mail din. I'll wait. And I am hoping for the best.

Daisy

Dear Daisy,

Sometimes, I could not help but think that my readers who send me emails seeking advice are just making me envious of their current state of sexual affairs since I've been vocal in being single. Because I'm unattached for the past three years, the only time I get to tell a woman to take off her underwear, to spread her legs and warn her that I'll insert something hard is when I'm doing an internal examination or a pap smear. Thankfully, a single man has his right hand as a substitute fubu in times of need.

You are not pregnant, Daisy. If your statement is indeed 100% factual, there is no chance in hell that your lover boy's mere fingers could make you conceive. There are only two methods that can make a female pregnant: by actual intercourse and by in vitro fertilization. Since you've done neither, your menstrual concern could be a result of other causes. Aside from pregnancy, there are several factors that could lead to delay of menses namely, drugs and medications, stress, and hormonal imbalance. There are instances when missing a menstruation is physiologically normal. If this condition persists though or it eventually lead to amenorrhea or complete absence of menses, it is proper to see an obstetrician gynecologist.

Truly, finger puppeting one's genital courtesy of a lover is a great alternative from an actual intercourse which may result to an unwanted pregnancy or a dreaded venereal disease. This is one of the reasons why I'm a staunch advocate against the use of firecrackers during new year's eve. Aside from being a big waste of money, the probability of losing your fingers from lighting these dangerous explosives is high. As a result, the sensation of having an amputee pleasure the genital compared with a person with healthy fingers is just not the same. Imagine being pleasured by a hand with incomplete fingers. It would make you feel creepy instead of horny.

If you are still paranoid about the thought of being pregnant, you may consider buying an over the counter home pregnancy kit and test yourself. The said device is almost always accurate in detecting if a woman is gestating. Most likely, your result would yield negative if you indeed haven't engage in any coitus or receive IVF. If it turns out miraculously positive, it may be deduced that your boyfriend's fingers are equipped with semen. For becoming a freak of nature, your man's phalanges may instantly become world famous. For being able to impregnate, your boyfriend's fingers may even have a Facebook fan page of its own.

At your cervix,
Albert

My Email: changihok@yahoo.com

Why The Hell These Local Celebrities Should Be Killed By Dexter

2011-08-08T09:30:00.000+07:00

For the clueless, Dexter is a character from the US tv series of the same name who is a serial killer whose targets are the evil felons of the society. For the past two months, I've been doing a dvd marathon of its past five seasons much to my delight. From the tv series, the idea of having some of our annoying celebrities killed by Dexter, if he were living, wrestled in my thought. Though murder is a sick subject itself, it is a fact that humans are sometimes overwhelmed by their beastly nature. That at one point, we entertain the the ghastly act of wishing the obnoxious people around us be gone into extinction. Like in the show Dexter, we even desire to have their body dismembered and dumped in the middle of Manila Bay to be feasted upon by a school of galunggong and never to be seen by the future generation.

1. Kris Aquino

Filipinos are to be blamed why she became such a monster. Like puppets, they always listen to what she says and buy what she sells. A multi media star she calls herself, Kris Aquino has only one subject she loves talking about --- herself. For more than a decade, this nation has become engrossed with her shameless, self-centered, and scandalous tales of immorality, infidelity and STD. It is about time to break the cycle.

2. Lito Lapid

A waste of taxpayers' money. As a lawmaker, Lito Lapid seems to be in a state of coma. Without any significant bill passed and opinion regarding social issues rendered, he has been slouching around the Senate for quite awhile. I bet that even if he gets killed by Dexter nobody would even dare notice. After all, his presence as senator was always never felt.

3. Cristy Fermin

There is no person who is more vocal as a member of the Willie Revillame Kiss My Ass Club than Cristy Fermin. For someone whose job is to spread chismis, she sees herself as perpetually upright and virtuous. Condescending, self righteous, and should I mention ugly. The world is better off without Cristy.

4. Raymond Gutierrez

An elitist, a fashionista and a closet queen. For sure, Dexter would be having a difficult time slicing up Raymond Gutierrez knowing how fat he is. If Raymond proves to be too hard for a kill, his twin Richard Gutierrez will be a perfect alternative. His crime? Constantly acting like a stoned monument in all of his tv shows and movies.

5. Gretchen Barretto

Proclaiming herself as a singer is already punishable by death. Other than this sin, Gretchen Baretto is also guilty of being a narcissist. If not walking out in every interview, she has the habit of showcasing her delusion of grandeur. Hopefully, Gretchen would be gone before she makes another album.

6. The Azkals

For a country obsessed with mestiso looking athletes, I have not seen so much hype in my entire life than The Azkals. Swimming, archery, and volleyball. The reason why these other sports are not getting the same publicity and support like in football is obvious. Their athletes are not foreign bred and not as good looking. For failing to live up to the hype, the mystique of The Azkals may even prematurely die even before Dexter could get his hands on each of them.

7. Jovit Baldovino

Like molds of fungi spoiling our favorite food, Jovit Baldovino is the cancer of the genre of classic rock. For passing the identity of materials from great bands such as Queen as his own is truly unspeakable for genuine rock music enthusiasts. Before he continues ruining other rock classics, Jovit and the people managing his career need to be drastically stopped.

8. Hayden Kho

After being busted for cam cording his coital habits, Hayden Kho got off with a light punishment. A voyeur. A self confessed drug user. A cheater. His resume speaks for itself. For his crimes, Hayden Kho should have long gone extinct.

9. Melai Cantiveros

Having a chimay look with a motor mouth does not necessarily make one funny. Yet, Melai Cantiveros became a celebrity employing such disgraceful strategy. For contaminating our tv screens with her horrible presence, it is about time to end our agonies. Melai deserves not to live long.

10. Willie Revillame

He is the highest paid tv host despite often mispronouncing simple English words such as "choo" instead of "two" million. He frequently attests that the sole purpose of his show is to benefit the poor in spite of the truth that he is the one getting richer by the day. From the ULTRA stampede to the Jan Jan incident, Willie Revillame is a constant fixture of infamy. But none is more than despicable among his evil deeds than paying off the contestants in his show to praise him as "guwapo" despite looking like Fanny Serrano. For his serial offenses, Willie shall someday pay.

Because Of A Homeless Man

2011-08-05T09:22:00.000+07:00

This is a case of a 67 year old male patient who was brought for medical attention after sustaining a large gaping wound on his head. Aside from his physical injury, the patient was diabetic. With his fragile state of health, he is also a father longing for his children who had long abandoned him.

A few hours before arriving at the ER, the patient was a mere homeless man roaming around Metro Manila. Long and tedious was his search for his two sons and one daughter who had left him in their province. Breaking all ties with him, the patient had not seen nor talked to them for almost a year. Desperate yet hopeful, the old man who was also a widower ventured to Manila a week ago with the desire of seeing his children again.

Drowsy and dehydrated, his face was crimson red covered in his own blood that came out from a ghastly laceration on his scalp. The traffic enforcers who brought him were clueless on who he was and what transpired that resulted to his condition. While suturing his wound, the old man exerting great effort handed an index card that he took out from his pocket. It was a note that says: "Andito po ako sa Maynila upang hanapin ang tatlo kong anak. Isa po akong diabetic."

"Ilang oras na daw siyang nakahandusay sa sahig na walang pumapansin. Dinala namin sya sa (private hospital) pero di tinanggap dahil wala ngang kamag-anak. Kaya pinalipat kami dito, " one of the traffic enforcers added.

When RBS was taken, his blood sugar level yielded an alarming rate of 20 mg/dl. Aside from his nasty cut, the patient seemed to be experiencing hypoglycemic shock. His low glucose level may have caused him to faint thus sustaining the injury, I theorized. Therapy was immediately instituted to correct the deficit. He was admitted and likewise referred to social service.

Yearning for his lost loved ones, the old man had always expressed hope in meeting them again. Yet, behind the light of hope lies the shadow of despair. During his hospital stay, one could not help but noticed the ever present sadness in his eyes. As if his spirit was drowning in loneliness, the wrinkled face of a homeless man was always a canvass for sadness and melancholy. In his search for his children , he failed. It was decided that he would be put in a government facility for the aged.

The moment came when he was discharged. Swallowing as if to suppress his emotion, the old man gently uttered, "Salamat, doc. Yun lang ang tanging maisusukli ko sa naitulong niyo sa akin."

But I realized I have more to be thankful for because of him. Because of that homeless man, I was reminded that care for the sick should know no boundary. Though rare, an act of kindness is the greatest charity one can offer. And seeing the grateful face of the person you have helped is a priceless reward one can receive. Because of that homeless man, I learned of the value of our parents. That when the tide turns, it is the duty of us children to give back. Because of that homeless man, I was able to grasp a more complex meaning of hope. Like a sailor lost at sea, the old man may have never find his right way back. Yet, living a new life with other elderlies who were abandoned just like him, I hope he would find a new home.

Wisdom I Got After Watching The Show Of Willie Revillame

2011-07-29T14:16:00.000+07:00

Pamasahe need not be back and forth. In Willie's show, contestants and live audience members are compensated with pamasahe on their way home.

A novelty singer whose voice is nasal, out of tune, and substandard can dish out serious ballads as long as he can out sell the albums of the country's premiere recording artists.

Like a teacher scolding his class of pupils, the host can strictly admonished his studio audience if they are becoming restless and bored--- "Quiet. Quiet please. Makinig kayo. Importante tong sinasabi ko."

For the show's best interest, dancers and staff members should be castigated by the host on national tv whenever small miscues are committed.

Aside from the host's provocation in stirring their emotion, a melodramatic background music is essential when the contestants are narrating their personal tales of dilemma.

Courting a female co-host should be done during a live program so that the studio audience may act as the cheering squad.

Mispronouncing English words such as two million into "choo" million and shouting periodically during a three hour show are among the skills of a well compensated tv host.

Elderly people are prioritized when giving away gift bags from the show's sponsors. After all, they need all the whitening beauty products from Belo and all the chichirya with high salt content from Oishi.

For a festive atmosphere, a show must rip off games being played at the peryahan.

It is not redundant to sing and dance to the same set of songs and play the same set of games daily, six days a week.

Lolas and handicapped people should always be easily visible among the audience so that the host would be able to clearly show his good deeds towards them in front of the camera.

During a legal battle, one has the right to air his grievances in public and instigate the people to support him by insinuating that the sole purpose of his program is to benefit the masses.

One quick way of becoming a millionaire is to make it a habit to name drop the country's well-known business tycoons and ask the audience to applaud for them thereafter.

A contestant or a live audience member can earn extra cash by doing the unimaginable--- praising the host as guwapo despite looking like Fanny Serrano.

Why She Cannot Suddenly Walk

2011-07-25T10:32:00.000+07:00

This is the case of a 15 year old female patient who was admitted when she was suddenly unable to walk. She was once a healthy teenager with no known chronic illness before the debilitating condition mysteriously struck her. Along with her single parent mom and 13 year old sister, all they could hope for was that her unexplained paralysis may never remain permanent.

As it swirled around, the old, dusty, rust stained ceiling fan was the only noise that could be heard at the half filled charity ward. Standing by the window contemplating about my zero sex life, I overheard a soft voice coming from a girl asking, "Mama, makakalakad pa ba ko?"

"Oo, anak. Sa awa ng Diyos," responded what seemed to be an adult female voice.

The conversation came from bed no. 8 where a pretty morena teenage girl laid and her her mother seated just nearby. While the mom gently stroke her shoulder length hair, drops of tears ran through the temple of the young patient. For her to exhibit such melancholic emotion, waves of fear and apprehension were probably dwelling within her.

Intrigued, I immediately went to see the patient's chart. After carefully reading her history and initial tests, I realized her case could be brought about by many differential diagnoses. More than the chronic autoimmune diseases, I was leaning more on Guillain Barre knowing that such illness has a good prognosis which is better for the poor teenager.

That afternoon, I accompanied the patient to a tertiary hospital in QC to test for her NCV (nerve conduction velocity) which our facility lacks. While traveling in an ambulance with her mom and sibling, I learned more about the patient's family. Working as a lady guard at the mall, the mother had less than enough to raise her two children. Borrowing spare pesos from relatives, her daughter's plight was further aggravated by the high cost of hospitalization.

"Sana po, gumaling siya. Kahit mabaon ako sa utang," the mild mannered mother pleaded desperately. The patient remained quiet yet I saw the tenacity in her that she may be able to get through it.

While waiting for the patient as she underwent her ncv test, I was surprised when the mom handed me a tetra pack juice and mamon which she asked her other daughter to buy from the cafeteria. Flashing her amicable smile, she said, "Doc magmerienda muna kayo."

At that instance, I felt overwhelmed. Despite their situation, the mom was still stirred by her concern for another person such as I.

Evening came. At the nurse station, I was the recipient of a barrage of inanities as the on duty old maid nurse took into account the episode details of last night's teleseryes. My ears unwillingly succumbed to the senselessness of her passionately recalling the dialogues in verbatim of Agua Bendita and Magkaribal. While staring at a stapler laying on the desk nearby, my mind was promptly filled with the violent thought of stapling the nurse's mouth. Suddenly, a loud thud as if someone fell was heard. It was the teenage patient lying on the floor. She was quickly assisted by the nurse and her mother who just came from the rest room.

"Anong nangyari, anak?" the mom anxiously asked.

As if trying to suppress a burst of tears from falling, the patient answered in her trembling voice," Tinitingnan ko kasi, ma, baka nakakalakad na ko."

"Wag mo munang pilitin, anak," the mom suggested as she lovingly held to the hand of her daughter who eventually was not able to contain her emotion.

Seeing such sight had turned my feeling of ire towards the soap opera fanatic nurse into a feeling of empathy for the mother and daughter. With the will of God, I vowed to help her recover and let her walk again.

Two days later, her health took a turn for the worse. Her breathing became hypofunctional. The sign of which gave a clearer picture of her condition. That, it was indeed Guillain Barre. Her muscles of respiration now barely worked. There is no recourse but to intubate and hook the patient to mechanical ventilation. It was at this low ebb, watching her daughter suffer further, that I witnessed the mother hysterically cried. During the following days, the patient had lain on the hospital bed with a tube in her mouth and the hissing sound of the breathing machine emanating throughout the room.

After more than a week, the need for assisted ventilation was taken out. Slowly, the patient was showing signs of improvement in response to therapy.

On the second week, her flaccid extremities were able to gradually move upon physical examination. Though still not visibly strong, the patient was able to move her feet against gravity.

"Naigagalaw ko na po," the patient remarked with a lovely smile on her face. During her long tenure at the hospital, it was the first time I witnessed her smile. And it was the sweetest smile I ever saw from someone in my lifetime.

By the third week, rehabilitative measures were undertaken to make the patient walk. Despite the prolonged misuse of her lower extremities, she quickly regained her ability to move vertically. More than the good prognosis of her disease, her progress could be attributed to her determination which I was a first hand witness of. In less than a month, the patient had fully recovered. She was eventually discharged from the hospital.

After a few days, the mother returned to give me a token of appreciation in the form of a cake. She delightfully informed me that her daughter was now living a normal life as a student. Before leaving, she wholeheartedly expressed her gratitude, saying her thank you's ceaselessly. Back in the doctor's lounge, I noticed that the box of pastry had a small card attached therein. Signed by the patient, her mother and her sister, the card reads "You Are God's Sent. Thank You Po!"

In a moment like that, I realized that it is not the honor nor the prestige that makes my work the best job in this world. But the overwhelming happiness you instilled to people's hearts when you offer yourself to be of service to them.

Public Display Of Erection

2011-07-23T10:49:00.000+07:00

While siting at the back of a FX taxi on my way home, I was startled when an adult male and a teenage girl embarked on the vehicle and sat in front of me. The adult male donned in a black tshirt, denim shorts, and tsinelas was probably in his 40s. With his wavy but dry hair, he strikingly resembled the actor Russel Crowe. The teenage girl was quite attractive. Possibly not more than 18 years old, she was clad in a white printed tank top that had the strap of her red bra partially exposed and a black legging pants. Her almond shaped eyes were markedly enhanced with eyeliners. She must have spent a fortune on eyeliners. At first look, I thought they were a father and daughter. But I was terribly mistaken.

They initially conversed in a casual manner. Although I wanted to eavesdrop on what they are talking about, I had to conceal my ears with the headset of my music player due to the vile music f Willie Revillame from the car stereo. Being out of tune and bad vocally, Papi's songs are just painful for an audiophile, yet I wonder how his albums attained multiplatinum status. I would rather have my scrotum stapled together than listen to his songs. Momentarily, the middle aged man conspicuously wrapped his arm around the teenage lass. Leaning to his head against the girl's, they whispered sweetly to each other. While laughing, the man's frown lines, crow lines and wrinkled forehead became noticeable. He then began kissing the young girl on her left cheek. It was now clear that what once I presumed as a paternal relationship turned out to be a May December affair.

Their faces were so close to each other as they talked. They probably could see each other's pores. The teenage girl lovingly embraced her old lover around his waist. A moment of silence ensued. Noticeably, the old boyfriend, who probably has a few more years before his prostate enlarges, was busy pinching the right arm of his jail bait girlfriend as if it was an isda from a palengke. His mouth moved towards the left ear of the lady to whisper something. Oddly, it stayed there for awhile. With the girl's shoulder length hair partially covering his face, my instinct told me that he was up to something. True enough, the strange couple was already engaged in petting, with the old guy's oral orifice kissing and gently biting the girl's ear. The teenager girlfriend seemed to be enjoying it based on her orgasmic face. After manong bf devoured her ear for a period of time like a chicharon, I checked for the patency of the young girl's organ of hearing. Thank God, it was still there.

The next scene had the manong bf smothering his young lover with kisses all over her cheeks. I pretended I was busy listening to my mp3 player so the couple could go on with what they're doing. Incidentally, my music player whose playlist was on shuffle played Rape Me by Nirvana. I was not able to control the urge and sang along with the said grunge classic loud enough for the fornicating lovers to hear: "Rape me, Rape me my friend. Rape me, Rape me again."

The couple remained unfazed despite the showing of my operatic prowess. Unmindful of my presence, the lovers who seemed to be cultivating more of an incestuous relationship with their wide age gap, started locking lips. I began looking for a hidden video camera as this may be some sort of a prank from a tv show. I found none. With their kissing becoming more lascivious, the lovers completely lost any trace of dignity. They had unleashed their exhibitionist nature without shame. In spite of my eyes intently fixated at them, the young Juliet had disregarded any inhibition in her body as she engaged in a passionate tonsil hockey with her middle aged romeo. I was worried for the girl. She might expire from asphyxiation as she may accidentally swallow the pustiso of her manong bf while they're kissing. Unfortunately, my voyeuristic activity was cut short. I already reached my destination. After disembarking from the FX taxi, it only occurred to me that I forgot to leave a tip for the couple for giving me a free live show.

One Strange Thing About Me

2011-07-19T09:50:00.000+07:00

One strange thing about me, I am fascinated with serial killers. Besides being a fan of Dexter and CSI, I regularly watch chilling documentaries about real life serial murderers.

One strange thing about me, I avoid going out with friends for a videoke. This is to prevent me from becoming violent upon hearing someone sing Bakit Ngayon Ka Lang for the nth time.

One strange thing about me, I read newspapers and tabloids starting from the last page.

One strange thing about me, I am playful when in a public restroom. Using my pee, I aim at the hideous pubic hairs and phlegm left by other people in the urinal.

One strange thing about me, I sometimes entertain the heinous thought of stalking my favorite Japanese idol Aya Ueto.

One strange thing about me, I am judgmental when it comes to a person's choice of music. I regard those who love Kpop as juvenile, if not retarded. I think of men who solely listens to R'N B as gays. I see people who dig rave, trance, techno, or whatever you call that rubbish as Ecstasy addicts who like music that is a product of computer programming.

One strange thing about me, one of my past times is to count girls wearing cheeky shorts strolling at the mall. Fat women not included.

One strange thing about me, despite most men desire a six pack, I am very proud of my one pack abdomen which I call "the house that lechon built."

One strange thing about me, I am extremely frugal. It is my belief that any brand new t-shirt should not cost more than P200, any drink should not exceed P25, and a haircut should be just P50 or less.

One strange thing about me, I own an extensive collection of pictures with mascots.

One strange thing about me, I once lost my sexual drive during a month long internship at Fabella, a hospital that caters to patients giving birth. Apparently, the saturating sight of several vaginas on a daily basis has its toll on a man.

One strange thing about me, I do not patronize products being endorsed by celebrities I cannot stand.

One strange thing about me, I love taking pictures of people but I hate being photographed by people.

One strange thing about me, I still my eyes drowning in tears while watching movies which I have already viewed several times.

One strange thing about me, I give fake names in coffee shops and restaurants when being asked for it --- one tall brewed coffee for Piolo!

One strange thing about me, I like killing roaches by drowning them in alcohol. More humane and hygienic than squashing them with tsinelas.

One strange thing about me, my musical preference is rock, particularly trash metal. This, despite not looking like someone who listens to such genre.

One strange thing about me, I bear an extreme fondness for old, menopausal, and sarcastic women like Lolit Solis, Annabelle Rama and Senator Miriam Defensor Santiago. I find them effortlessly funny.

One strange thing about me, I have a nasty habit of strolling around a big supermarket without buying anything.

One strange thing about me, my eyeballs have a tendency to roll upwards, as if I were having an orgasm, whenever I'm devouring a tasty burger.

The Seven Deadly Sins Of The Facebook User

2011-07-16T10:16:00.000+07:00

The rise of Facebook as the most popular social networking site is a testament of how much people are into this online phenomenon. Despite the technological nitty gritty it has, Facebook has its adverse effects on its users. Like the evil Darth Vader, Facebook has lured many people into the dark side by committing these seven deadly sins:

LUST

Whether they are quoting a romantic line of saying how much they miss/love their partners, many internet users have utilized Facebook as the venue for their schmaltz. Even though most people are not interested, these lovestruck individuals imbue upon us the state of their private love affairs as if they were celebrities. To stir controversy and attention, some even toy with the idea of constantly changing their relationship status depending on whether they are having a petty lovers' quarrel or they are having sex at that time. Others engage in an adolescent demeanor of using Facebook as a stage to say their cheesy monologues to their loved ones ala Romeo And Juliet. With this gross public display of affection, we become unwilling witnesses to these people's sentimentality and kalandian.

ENVY

"I want this" or "I want that"--- the manner from which many Facebook users assert their desire to own the newly released state of the art gadgets could be likened to an ill bred spoiled brat. Likewise, there are those who turn into braggarts. To incur envy among people, they needlessly boast of their latest expensive purchases in Facebook. Despite living in a poverty stricken country, these people flash their lavish lifestyle as if they were taping an episode of MTV Cribs. Without any tinge of conscience, they parade their pricey material possessions unto our faces.

WRATH

Otherwise known as flamers, these Facebook users give social networking a bad name. With the purpose of causing harm to the object of their frustration, they lash out slanderous remarks to regular people and famous celebrities they hate. Having no outlet to vent their anger, they use Facebook as their habitat to invade private accounts and fan pages to bring out their inner Bella Flores.

SLOTH

Instead of being more productive in school or work, many people lazed around Facebook. The worst of whom are those who excessively update their status daily to the point of saturation. Brought by their histrionic behavior, they only have one topic they love talking about--- themselves. Aside from the sheer laziness, they have the desperate need to be on the limelight as evident by the countless attention seeking posts of their frivolous thoughts, activities and cam whoring photos.

GLUTTONY

Strangely, many Facebook users are compelleed to publicize what they want to eat or what they have just eaten when people are not even interested on such trivial matter. Most of whom require themselves to inform us of their menu especially if it involves something that a minimum wage earner could not even afford. In an intent not to just stir our palate but to brag about how sosyal they are as well, these people regularly plague Facebook with their gluttonous nature.

PRIDE

Other people probably think that Facebook is a ticket for stardom. By creating their own fan pages, these relatively unknown individuals live up to the illusion that everyone looks up to them. Succumbing to their narcissistic nature, they shamelessly promote their public accounts so people could venerate their beauty or worship their self proclaimed expertise. Despite being never heard of by most people, these brazen celebrity wanna bes misuse the fan page feature of Facebook for the sake of self glorification.

GREED

Out of greed for money, many Facebook users intrude other people's privacy by tagging the photos of their commodities or asking us to vote for them in an online contest. Pestering us with personal messages or posts we are compelled to remove or untag ourselves from afterward, these people are like parasite whose only purpose in communicating with you is to earn money or win a competition. For their personal gain and selfish interest, these internet peddlers and contestants cross the boundary of ethics by invading our private domain without any permission.

It will only be a matter of time before Facebook would totally demonize the people who are using it. After putting Friendster an Multiply into oblivion, Facebook has turned its attention in slowly transforming many people into self centered egomaniacs. The coming of the first and second Anti-Christs was believed to be in the persons of Napoleon Bonaparte and Adolf Hitler respectively. Though I'm no Nostradamus, I can foretell that Facebook with the way it's causing humans to commit these moral crimes just could be the third Anti-Christ.

In Honor Of Miriam Defensor Santiago

2011-07-12T09:53:00.000+07:00

One strange thing about me, I have a thing for senile, sarcastic, and menopausal women. To make it clear though, I am no Hayden Kho who would go after someone old enough to be my mother. I just have a fondness for the likes of Lolit Solis and Annabelle Rama. Besides the two, I also find myself always enamored by the presence of Senator Miriam Defensor Santiago. Like Annabelle and Lolit, the good senator has the balls to go up against powerful figures of the society. But what makes her different from the two aforementioned showbiz war freaks, Miriam has an impeccable intellectual superiority. As a matter of fact, the remarkable combination of her grumpiness and intellect sets her apart from other politicians as well. In line of her duty in the Senate, Miriam always valiantly shows her fierceness towards abusive and corrupt officials through her degrading most often funny verbal onslaughts. Much to their chagrin, Miriam even mocks, bullies and shames them in public. And in doing so, she gets to toss out memorable quotes, distinct terms, and humorous one liner with great style and intensity.

The mystique of Miriam Defensor Santiago came into our consciousness during the Cory Aquino administration. Fearless, vocal and authoritative --- these are the undeniable traits that catapulted her to stardom. Since then, nothing has changed even her hairstyle. Apart from her katayaran, Miriam is well known for her penchant of using intricate vocabularies in her grammar. Moreover, she has been a constant source of unforgettable lines during interviews and Senate hearings. For over a decade, I have learned many things that only the good senator could inculcate.

Because of Miriam, I am inspired to constantly enrich my grasp of the English dictionary. During the Erap impeachment trial, Miriam is best remembered for throwing out of the Senate court two female spectators who according to her were engaging in a distracting "tete-a-tete." Miriam once also taught me to become a smart ass. When she lost in her bet of jumping out of a moving plane if Erap gets incarcerated, she cunningly made an excuse by telling "she lied" followed by a cynical laughter. From Miriam, I get to hone my skills of mocking people who deserve it. Irked by the barrage of tv infomercials involving government officials, she lambasted the head of TESDA who was featured singing along with Sarah Geronimo. In her distinct Ilongga accent, she remarked --- "May pasayaw sayaw pa. Kala mo kaguwapo!." Known for sponsoring the controversial RH bill, Miriam even lashed out at Pacquiao saying, "Gusto nya magboksing na lang kami!"

Yet, not all that come out of the mouth of Miriam are words of hostility. For a woman of her stature, she doesn't have any qualm in making fun of herself. From Miriam, I learn that it is okay to be a flirt even if you're already old. Like a school girl with a crush, Miriam once expressed her kalandian by personally asked Trillanes in public "to smile more often because he is the best looking member of the Senate." Because of Miriam, I accepted the fact that everyone ages. At the reception of her wedding vow renewal, Miriam humbly declined to kiss her husband when the people prodded her to do so, explaining "Couples of our age kissing in public will not be a pleasing sight."

To her critics, Miriam is a lunatic. Once, she was accused of being mentally challenged. But this allegation is unproven up to now. What is true though, Miriam is brave, hard working, intelligent, sarcastic and effortlessly funny. These are the reasons why I admire her. Perhaps, my lone dislike for Miriam is her friendship with Lito Lapid (who I am not a fan of for being a wallflower in the Senate long enough.) Honestly, I am not really into politics. But if there is one politician who I would miss if she is gone, it will surely be Senator Miriam Defensor Santiago.

Why Hubert Webb Deserves His Acquittal

2011-07-09T11:01:00.000+07:00

For Hubert Webb and his co-accused, the term justice became synonymous with "just tiis." Incarcerated for 15 years, they paid dearly for the sins which I opine they have never committed. Upon learning fully of the Vizconde Case, I am strongly convinced that Webb and company should have been acquitted back in the lower court. Given the testimonies and evidences, or lack there of, presented during the trial, the result should have been favorable to an acquittal, if not an early dismissal. Yet this sensational case has garnered widespread attention since day one. After coming up with several sets of fall guys beforehand, the court declaring the current accused who happens to be scions of prominent families as not guilty would not have looked good at that time. It did not help either that the public has long seen Webb and company as the real perpetrators even before the trial started. Typically, the Vizconde case became an epitome of trial by publicity.

Even though law experts would attest that a testimony is the weakest form of evidence during a trial, it was so surreal how the RTC and CA could have had arrived at a guilty verdict based on such. It was baffling how testimonies made by few people led by Jessica Alfaro were given sole credence in convicting Webb and company for a heinous crime. By virtue of this, our judiciary has imbibed upon us that any person could lose a legal battle solely based on depositions executed by any individual/s despite the dubious character profiles and possible fabrications at hand.

Strangely for a crime of rape-slay and murder, the gravity of the lower court decision primarily lies on the testimony by the prosecution's alleged first hand witness Jessica Alfaro, a woman of doubtful persona. Any smart person who has well read the personal account of Alfaro on how the Vizonde massacre allegedly took place would definitely find her story preposterous, if not close to impossible. For being irrational, unrealistic and even unimaginable, the only venue for Alfaro's story to be at least heard is at your local male salon where barbers engage in rumor mongering and "kuwentong barbero." Out of pure logic, any court would not dignify her incredible personal anecdote of a group of drug crazed individuals, who were mostly strangers to each other and from which she belonged to, committing an impromptu rape and killing spree during one fateful night. Maybe from an act of desperation after years of failure of solving the Vizconde massacre case, the court held the depositions executed by Alfaro and a few others as believable. This, aside from the numerous loopholes and inconsistencies and Alfaro's failure to personally recognize the suspects, conspicuously were not deterrent in convicting Webb and company.

During the course of the case, two much talked about movies namely The Vizconde Massacre Story (God Help Us!) and The Untold Story: Vizconde Massacre II (May The Lord Be With Us) were made both under the direction of Carlo J. Caparas. With total lack of fairness and of little factual basis, the movies were executed based on rumors, hear says and black propaganda. The main purpose of which especially of the first movie was to implicate Webb and company as the people responsible for the gruesome crime. With no trace of cinematic excellence, the only redeeming value it has was seeing Kris Aquino get stabbed multiple times while playing Carmela Vizconde. The hype that these Vizconde movies created jeopardized the very essence of finding the real culprit/s. Via the influence of these Carlo J. Caparas's "masterpieces," many Filipinos have unjustifiably perceived Webb and company as a group of drug crazed monsters who committed the rape slay of Carmela and the murder of her mother and sister. With this concept long inculcated in the gullible mind of the people, the public outcry to convict Webb and company was imminent.

As for the grieving Lauro Vizconde, his strong conviction up to this day that Webb and company are the guilty party may have emanated from a type of defense mechanism. In the field of psychiatry, defense mechanisms are mental operations that function outside of awareness to escape from anxiety and maintain a state of well being. In his case, Mr. Vizconde is in obvious denial, refusing to accept valid information and facts that would have expunge his belief. Despite the overwhelming lack of evidence, Mr. Vizonde has maintained his perception that Webb and company as the culprits, probably to ward off the anxiety brought by the notion that his slain family has yet to find justice.

When the dust settled, it all became clear. The demise of Webb and company was glory to the people they were up against. With regular financial support coming from the government, Jessica Alfaro, from a measly junkie who acted as a part time NBI asset, is now living the time of her life in the US. Carlo J. Caparas, on the other hand, raked millions of pesos from the box office success of his Vizconde movies which started a slew of moneymaking but crappy massacre movies which he also directed. Likewise, the case proved to be a defining moment in the careers of the presiding judge who was promoted to the CA after wards and one member of the prosecution team who became a senator of the republic. Sadly for the accused, they had to languished in jail for 15 years before the Supreme Court finally did the right thing--- rectifying an unreasonable, false and biased decision.

In trying a criminal case, the court shall convict a suspect only after finding his guilt beyond a reasonable doubt for the crime he is accused of. In Filipino, walang kaduda-duda. The doubt in the Vizconde case as tried by the lower court was rather overwhelming. The presiding judge basically made her decision based on the merits of testimonies tainted with inconsistencies, blatant loopholes, and irrationalities by witnesses with dubious characters. With strong disregard for physical evidence, the suspects were found guilty based on stories which were never proven to be factual. Suffice to say, being a court of public opinion back then, the Paranaque RTC had to do the "right" thing and meted Webb and company the punishment of life imprisonment despite the existing elements of doubt and uncertainty.

With this kind of justice system we have, I fear for the day when my disgruntled Cristy Fermin lookalike housemaid who I fired for gross negligence would get back at me by charging me with rape. Despite the obvious reason I don't copulate with an ogre, I fear that the DOJ may find legal merit on her affidavit despite being fabricated. Because I'm wealthier than the alleged victim, I fear that the public may perceive me as guilty even before the trial starts. Without relying on DNA and other physical evidence, I fear that the court may convict me based solely on my ugly housemaid's false testimonies laden with inconsistencies. But what I fear most is having Carlo J. Caparas exploit my case by making a film portraying me as a vicious monster who rapes a housemaid in a movie entitled, "The Rape Of Inday (Oh My God!)."

I Wish I Could Quit You

2011-07-05T10:34:00.000+07:00

Oishi Wafu, I wish I could quit you.

Master Siomai, I wish I could quit you.

Leslie's Clover Chips, I wish I could quit you.

Selecta Coffee Crumble Ice Cream, I wish I could quit you.

Cara Mia Gelateria Gelato Cakes, I wish I could quit you.

R Lapid Chicharon, I wish I could quit you.

Chowking Halo Halo, I wish I could quit you.

Lucky Me Instant Pancit Canton, I wish I could quit you.

Mcdonalds Big Mac, I wish I could quit you.

Oishi Mart's Cracklin Vegetarian Chicharon, I wish I could quit you.

Pringles, I wish I could quit you.

Hong Kong Style Noodles, I wish I could quit you.

Greenwich Lasagna Supreme, I wish I could quit you.

Chansel All Meat Pizza, I wish I could quit you.

KFC Original Recipe Fried Chicken, I wish I could quit you.

Lucky Me Mac And Cheez, I wish I could quit you.

Eng Bee Tin Ube Hopia, I wish I could quit you.

Pepper Lunch Beef Teriyaki, I wish I could quit you.

Charlie's Grind And Grill Handcrafted Burger, I wish I could quit you.

Ping Ping Lechon, I wish I could quit you.

Tobleron Swiss White Chocolate, I wish I could quit you.

De' Original Jamaican Beef Pattie, I wish I could quit you.

Shakey's Mojo Potatoes, I wish I could quit you.

Kowloon House Bola Bola Siopao, I wish I could quit you.

Chippy, I wish I could quit you.

Gonuts Donuts, I wish I could quit you.

Zagu, I wish I could quit you.

Bread Talk Earthquake Cheese Toast, I wish I could quit you.

Red Ribbon Mango Passion Cake, I wish I could quit you.

Manila Scramble, I wish I could quit you.

Komoro Soba Kaki Age Soba, I wish I could quit you.

Majestic Ham, I wish I could quit you.

Domino's Pizza, I wish I could quit you.

San Mig Light, I wish I could quit you.

Oishi Gourmet Pick Potato Chips, I wish I could quit you.

Lucky Me Baked Mac, I wish I could quit you.

Potato Corner Flavored Fries, I wish I could quit you.

Savory Fried Chicken, I wish I could quit you.

Wendy's Frosty, I wish I could quit you.

Dunkin' Donuts Bunwich, I wish I could quit you.

Mister Donuts Brewed Coffee, I wish I could quit you.

Eggstacy Fried Quail Eggs, I wish I could quit you.

Sarsi Rootbeer Float, I wish I could quit you.

King Choc Nut, I wish I could quit you.

Goto King, I wish I could quit you.

Plato Wraps, I wish I could quit you.

Jollibee Chicken Joy, I wish I could quit you.

Krispy Kreme Donuts, I wish I could quit you.