Short Update

I know I haven't posted any new entries in my blog for 5 days. Funny. There used to be a time when posting once per week is already an achievement, but that was so 2005. Ever since blogging has peaked in popularity, it seems pretty normal for people to post everyday. Or at least twice per five days.

I'm not really used to that. I've blogged a lot more than before, but asking me to do it daily is preposterous. That's especially true when I'm vacationing - which is coming to an end after tomorrow.

So what's my point? My point is to tell everyone that I'm still alive, even if I've at now grown pretty weary of the ear-splitting firecracker cacophonies. Gee the Chinese really are crazy about firecrackers. See my neighborhood to verify this.

I've also finished reading Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, and Liz was right that it was good. Merely good, not great, nor terrific, nor all those bloated praises some publishers slap randomly on the covers of the books (and if I've ever seen another book with a "riveting" on it…) My biggest problem is how unfocused the story is. It shifts perspective too often, too fast and, sometimes, too inconsequentially. The comedies and the wordplays can only do so much to a plot that's admittedly average (and at times weak). 

That's all for today. I'll be more active in 2 days when I'm forced to sit down in front of computers for 8 hours. Haha. Happy New Year. And you know, I like saying Happy New Year after laughing because it makes you sound like you're stuttering and that you're struggling to greet someone because you're too nervous. Some girls totally dig nervous guys. Well, at least they're portrayed that way in Animes. Or Transformers. Er, I was being redundant. Those are so close to real life, right? Haha.

Happy New Year.

See, I did that again. Now will someone pinch me in the cheek? 

Stupid Things

[x] Gum has fallen out of your mouth when you were talking.
[x] Gum has fallen out of your mouth when you were NOT talking.
[x] You have ran into a glass/screen door. [yeoch!]
[ ] You have fell out/off of a moving vehicle.

[x] You have thought of something funny and laughed, then people gave you weird looks. [Happens all the time.]

So far: 4

[ ] You have ran into a tree. [Almost]

[x] You have tried to lick your elbow.
[ ] You just tried to lick your elbow.
[ ] You never knew that the Alphabet and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star have the same rhythm. [I noticed that a long time ago]
[ ]You just tried to sing them.

So far: 5

[x] You have tripped on your shoelace and fallen. [Yeah, doncha wish your boyfriend is as clumsy as me?]
[ ] You have choked on your own spit.
[ ] Your hair is/was blond. [Uh, obnoxious stereotype?]
[x] You've put metal in the microwave. [Don't ask]

So far:7

[x] You have accidentally caught something on fire. [My jacket, and an expensive one at that]
[ ] You tried to drink out of a straw, but it went into your nose/eyes.
[x] You have caught yourself drooling when you wake up. [Many times!]
[x] You've fallen asleep in class. [BUT, it RARELY happens!]

[ ] You have tripped over your own feet.

So far: 10

[x] Sometimes you just stop thinking.
[x] You are telling a story and forget what you were talking about.
[ ] You have forgotten to breathe. [Huh, that's dumb, unless it's used as a pickup line!]
[ ]You are often told to use your "inside voice".
[ ] You use your fingers to do simple math. [Nah.]

So far: 12

[ ] You have eaten a bug
[ ] You are taking this test when you should be doing something else. [Not really. I'm free to be idle for now]
[x] You have put your clothes on backwards or inside out. [Some of my shirts are reversible]
[x] You've looked all over for something and realized it was in your hand. [Good lord, I can't express just how many times this has happened to me! I'm not good at finding things.]

So far: 14

[ ] You sometimes post bulletins because you are scared that what they say will happen to you if you dont. [I must've died and reincarnated and re-died a thousand times now if any of them were true]
[x] You break a lot of things. [:(]

So far: 15

[ ] Your friends know not to use big words around you.
[x] You sometimes tilt your head when you're confused. [Hahahahaha!]
[x] You have fallen out of your chair before. [Happens in my office a lot]

So far: 17

[x] When you're lying in bed, you try to find pictures or words in the texture of the ceiling. [I don't find it stupid. Zombiefied people merely like to dismiss creative thinkers as stupid]

[x] The word "uh" is used many times a day. {Uh, not really]

Total: 19

Christmas Here and There

I’ve spent Christmases in Taipei (back in 2004) and in Shanghai (yesterday), and learned that people of both places have a funny way of celebrating the occasion.

Take Taipei. During Christmas Eve you’ll find a lot of couples – yes, couples, not families - dining in posh restaurants, strolling near Taipei 101, taking pictures of (them [doing the requisite “V peace/victory” hand poses] with) Christmas adornments, or hanging around in coffee shops while watching some white American street musicians perform Kenny G’s songs (which the Chinese are so crazy about). Meh-diocre. Since when did Christmas become a synonym of “Valentine’s Day”? Worse still, the younger generations are the only ones who celebrate Christmas. I once gave my Christmas greeting to an elderly Taiwanese, only to be rebuffed with a “We Chinese don’t celebrate Western holidays” remark. (Folks, that's one fantastic display of conversation skills if I've ever seen one. And some old people keep telling us the young ones that we shouldn't join in their conversations? We're doing fine without them reminding us).

Shanghai’s quite the same as Taipei’s, except the people in Shanghai also play dress-ups. They may be wearing some Santa hats or bunny ears or devil horns. I don’t get it either. How come nobody ever told me that Christmas is mardi gras and is also the day when Beelzebub and Bugs Bunny are born?

So after being on countries that do not treat Christmas the way Filipinos do, I was ready to state, as a fact, that Pinoys understand the day better than Chinese, and that that’s one thing I wouldn’t trade for anything else. I was quite ready to write long-winded cherishes of Pinoy’s Christmas…

…and then today happened.

When we were going from Manila to Shanghai on the 21st of December, we were required by the Bureau of Immigration to pay P2000+ pesos in order to get our exit permit. We paid, but the cashier was late, so we were instead issued a “temporary receipt” stating that we could claim the real permit when we come back (and by the way, travel documents are pain in the butts. They are more unwanted than fats, yet people keep making them. Can you imagine the world ever being harmonious when those that populate it split hairs over visas and all these grand papers?). So this afternoon, my brother and I returned to the Philippines. We came to the arrival’s immigration counter and handed over our “temporary receipt”. Now all we needed was the printed copies of our permit. The officer-in-charge ushered us to the immigration office so we could wait for the permit to print.

This rubbed me the wrong way. What kind of airports has their immigration officers arriving late and issuing shoddy “temporary” receipts (they’re actually written on rejected papers, by a handwriting worse than what can be done by a right-handed person attempting the write with the left hand)? And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the officer who was late did not bother printing the permits when we were away. That’s 5 days! That’s a mighty long time for two sheets of paper! And yet, they were telling me that I have to wait for them to do something they could've done five days ago? There were quite a few other alien residents who also left on December 21 with temporary receipts. How many of them are going to have to do all these waiting when they come back?

Want to know what sucked even more? These immigration officers worked like snails. My brother and I was in the office, when this officer took our passports and SAUNTERED - not ran or strode, apparently not interested about speed - back to his cubicle to print our permit. And then he disappeared. I walked out of the immigrations office and waited outside, hoping to find him in the horizon. No such luck. Or Feng Shui. Whatever. Shanghai was still centrifuging in my mind. After nearly an hour, a female officer by the counter said that I should keep waiting, and since I was growing impatient (not to mention embarrassed of the person who was to fetch me) I told her to kindly hurry things up. But instead of following-up on the person doing our papers, she shouted “This is not my business and look I’m busy with arranging these papers of the guy with turban!” Huh, then why was she telling me to wait further if it was none of her business? And that’s some wonderful business ethics she’s practicing, what with giving me this “that’s not my department” shtick. This coming from a company with this placard “Public Service is Public Trust” outside its office?

As a magnificent display of professionalism, she even went to the office tattling about me. I took offense of her behavior, and so I went in…

Nightdreamer: Look, all I’m asking is for a little respect when I come home. Just a little… just a little… R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Err, yeah, I’m kidding. This is how it went:

Nightdreamer: Look, I’m just requesting you to hurry things up because I think you can follow-up your coworker through some phone

B.I. Officer: Are you insulting me? Can’t you see I’ve been VERY busy dealing with all these long queues of people?

Nightdreamer: (looked outside briefly) What long queue? You’re telling me your two-to-three persons is your “long queue” compared to the others? [note: the others had 8 persons in their lines]

B.I. Officer: These are important people I’m dealing with! Like, ambassador people! [note: Right. So instead of summarily finishing their papers she’s at the office tattling about me then arguing with me?] Look, today is Christmas, and yet look at you getting all pissed off!

And then she kept escalating her abrasiveness, until my brother jumped in and calmly told her to let things go. After a complicated series of events, the cashier guy came back and gave us the permit. But, the immigrations lost my Customs Declaration Form. They did not even admit that. Not willing to relive the wait, and even less willing to re-deal with the ill-tempered female officer, I had to bribe the customs declaration guard so that I could get out of Ninoy Aquino International Air-purgatory.

I’ve left the airport for several hours, but the “This is Christmas” remark disturbs me even as I’m writing this entry, because the female officer used it in such a demeaning context. If she’s spreading the spirit of the yuletide, why didn’t she greet a Merry Christmas to the travelers that she was serving? None of them immigration officers did such thing, and yet, she was lecturing me that this is Christmas? The Philippine public offices are infamous for their greed and inefficiency. So come December 25, and they’re using the season as a leeway since people will forgive them anyway? ‘Tis the season to be lazy?

That attitude irks me so. It reminds me that the pinoy’s Christmas may not be that good. Because people are encouraged in this season to be like Jesus, they become more willing to forgive. And, guess what, a lot of pinoys capitalize on this period of generous pardoning! They nonchalantly commit a lot of mistakes while excusing themselves by saying that it’s Christmas anyway and that they will be forgiven. So even if Divisoria becomes the Pasig River of the roads during these times, it’s okay. Even if justice system is perverted, it’s okay. Even if Bureau of Immigration is slow, it’s okay. Pasko naman eh.

By the way, China’s immigration officers were very polite and fast. They greet you good morning, and are pleasant to you at all times. This is considering that China’s a country that went through a period when all doctrinal writings about good manners and right conducts have been eradicated. How about us who have our Bibles? Its denizens, who spit anywhere and do not say “excuse me”, aren't very well-mannered. And yet, it has very efficient immigration offices. Meanwhile, look at our public offices. Ours are unapologetic about  ineptitudes, and will be mad if someone insists ours to hasten things up. And on days like today, ours use Christmas as the justification.

I can only sigh. Yes, while the Chinese may not be celebrating the Christmas with Jesus in their minds, some Pinoys are celebrating Christmas by swindling those who have Jesus in their hearts. So who perverts Christmas more now?

Announcement

Well, not really. Or a belated one at that. 

I just came back from Shanghai, and I wasn't able to use the internet in the 5 days that I was there. So I apologize for not being able to read and reply to any comments during those times.

So now I'm going to read comments.

Time-waster

I don’t have the stats, but I think the majority of my readers will have a few vacation days. Am I correct? 

Some of us (yeah, that includes me) will be spending theirs traveling at a foreign land, but others won’t be that busy. In fact, it’s entirely possible that because of many days of not working or studying, you might get bored and be at a loss in finding something that's fun doing. 

I have one suggestion: Paper-folding. 

Yes, paper-folding, or better known in Japanese as Origami. It’s my first love, and I found it at an age when papers were more appealing than girls. 

You know, I don’t think that’s very implausible for older people. We have all kinds of men's magazines everywhere these days, but have you ever seen their models in person? Are they really that attractive, or have their appearances been doctored by Photoshophile pricks? Anyone heard of the so-called Angelica Panganiban scandal? (Frankly I still don't understand why a lot are splitting hairs on that issue) Yeah it's entirely possible for people to drool on all these photos but not on the photoed actual self.

Thank goodness I was eventually struck with puberty. It's better to be frustrated of not having a girlfriend that to be frustrated of not having a paper friend.

But let's talk about paper today. What, you want me to talk about girls instead and offer you suggestions on what you should be doing with them? I'm not a ladies' man! And if that's who you want you should go read somebody else's blog, like those of real pimps or those of some stupid ass "trying to be cool" epal guys who think they're so pimp-ish. Believe me, a lot of people belong in that latter category. But this is where it ends; no more talking about the human condition. Subject: real papers, not people who are like papers.

So then, Origami. I'm going to show you the overview of the craft. It's quite easy to get into, and it isn't terribly expensive, effort-wasting or time-consuming. The good news is that the fun starts even in just making the basic projects, like the paper boat or the paper plane. I think everyone and their moms know how to do something like this:

Pretty simple, innit? You can substitute your rubber ducky with a paper boat when you dip into your jacuzzi while pondering the science of buoyancy. Meh. Science is boring. So, instead, watch the boat in amazement because it floats exactly as long as a relationship from high school. Quite humdrum? Maybe, but did you know about tearing the head and the tips of the boat? Try it, and you'll get:

That's right, a shirt! So step aside Ben Chua you've just met your match! Too bad it won't fit even the most anorexic supermodel, but you can dress your chihuahua up with this paper-ish trash if that floats your, um, paper boat. 

If in case you find yourself stuck in the room with noisy 5 year-olds who keep bugging you to entertain them, you may want to try folding a paper plane. 

You're well aware that you can throw paper planes and let them glide, right? Try going to high-rise buildings, then glide these planes all the way down to the ground level (uh, make sure you go right down to clean up your mess too, okay?) Wonderful sight, the joy of flying, like cottons dancing with the lissome breeze. Write what you saw and, congratulations, you've finished the reaction paper of Jonathan Livingston's Seagull!

With both paper boats and planes, you use rectangular papers. Normal papers, that is. Unfortunately for a greater majority of other projects, you need equilateral papers. So unless you can buy squared papers or memo pads (which could be too small for some Origami projects) expect to be doing this a lot:

You'll be doing that so much that you'll curse the human race. I mean, geez, how many trees could we have saved if more papers were squared instead of rectangular? For all the science we obsess ourselves with, why are we so incapable of making the most pragmatic decisions? It's about time we evolve and MAKE THOSE PAPERS SQUARE! HURRY, THE EVOLUTION WILL NOT BE TELEVISED! Anyhoo, the remaining rectangular strip is rather problematic, as there aren't a lot of projects that looks good with something of that size and proportion. There's one that I know of, and it looks like this:

It's supposed to be a spaceship. Star Trek-ish or F-Zero-y. It looks quite cool at the first glance, but if you keep making that, passersby will think that you're a gigantic nerdbag, kind of like what happens when you go to the beach and people see you reading a sci-fi/fantasy book with all these dragons, dwarves and bikini-clad witches at the cover.

Moving on, let me introduce you to the Crane.

Now heed this: every self-respecting origami enthusiasts MUST know how to make a crane, just like how every pianist must learn Czerny. It's not just because most of origami's basic folds are included in making a crane. It's also because the crane is culturally significant. In Japan, paper cranes are believed to be lucky charms. They are connected by a thread and hanged on the doorstep.

Crane-making is also addicting. Some people only learn how to make that without trying other origami projects. My sister's an example. Just go to her room and you'll find this:

Yeah, so the next time you give her memo pads, you might as well sing, "Why to cranes suddenly appear…"

I advise you not to be stuck with cranes. There are a lot of other origami projects that give beautiful results. Like the peacock, for example:

Some of them are even practical, like the box:

You can use it as a mini trash box or ash tray or something to hold your spit or booger. Speaking of which, I just remembered walking past a jerk who spat on the ground. He just nearly hit my shoe, and I was pissed off to the extent that I wanted to kick him in the face (uh, he's short, that explains my confidence). Good Lord what is it with the manner of some people? I hope he goes to Singapore soon.

How about something complexly designed?

I don't even know what that is, but I find it attractive. Kind of like girls. I don't even know what they are, and yet I want to marry one of them. 

And this one's incredibly fun:

When you blow it at one end, it will inflate into:

Now how cool is that, you JUST MADE YOURSELF A MIRIAM DEFENSOR SANTIAGO'S BALL!

So anyway, if you want to learn origami, you can go to your nearest bookstore to buy some art papers and buy an origami instruction book. But they're not required. As long as you have an internet connection and a few paper, you can always google for some origami sites where you'll find instructions for a lot of project.

Have fun!

Silly IM Conversations

nightdreamer: yo nessy!

nessy: yo homeyslice!

nightdreamer: watchoo callin' me homeyslice fo'?

shrugging_lady: my pregnant dog went out!

nightdreamer: well, eloping dogs sound like an awesome plot device to me

nightdreamer: "While You Were Barking", starring Kennel Reeves

nightdreamer: err, apparently a better thespian than Keanu.

nightdreamer: Donald Duck with unnecessary zippers?

nightdreamer: Gothic Mickey Mouse(tm)?

blue_galaxy: Heh, he was intense

nightdreamer: What next? Goofy with angel wings?

nightdreamer: Daisy Duck with a jaded past ?

blue_galaxy: one winged angel goofy

blue_galaxy: hooker with a heart of gold daisy

nightdreamer: or Jiminy Cricket with 3 eyes

nightdreamer: sheesh, no one respects our childhood anymore

blue_galaxy: heh, so true

nightdreamer: The Americans ruined Looney Toons. The Japanese ruined Disney

nightdreamer: I can't wait for the British to ruin Hanna Barbera then

blue_galaxy: heh

nightdreamer: Bring on the Tom and Jerry with MOSHPITS and INDIE ROCK! 

nightdreamer: you know what would be cool?

nightdreamer: what if one of the harry potter characters were actually gay?

nightdreamer: you know, embracing diversity and all?

guile_sonicboom: err, I'd rather not see that happen

(note: this conversation was made before Deathly Hallows was released. When nightdreamer learned that Dumbledore is gay he had goosebumps.) 

captnlovbuns: i don't do nice things

nightdreamer: yeah, I've had it! From now on I will be a BAD DUDE!

captnlovbuns: bad enough to rescue the president?

nightdreamer: Yes!

nightdreamer: Pass the cocaine.

captnlovbuns: on its way. 

nightdreamer: HADOKEN! <O 

nightdreamer: pogi ako!

nightdreamer: jack and poy tayo. ang panalo, pogi!

nightdreamer: jack and poy!

masterlopez: o< (scissors)

nightdreamer: o (rock)

nightdreamer: yay panalo ako! 

** office lights off **

masterlopez: what was that about?

** office lights on after 5 minutes **

nightdreamer: ho-kay

nightdreamer: so, is someone having this "close the lights at mag-reflect-tayo" session that is common among religious seminars? 

nightdreamer: geez I really hated that Voldemort vs. Harry Potter scene in DH

pingpong: why? I thought it was okay?

nightdreamer: I thought it was really anticlimactic? Can you believe it, their dialogues? It's like a WWE trash talk! 

mike_tight: do birds have hands?

nightdreamer: huh of course they don't!

mike_tight: then why do we sing "Why do birds suddenly APIR"?

* nightdreamer facepalms * 

johnwilsonmotors: But to be fair, they're probably only shopping together because it's convenient

nightdreamer: sheesh johnwilsonmotors, your mind is too pure. Can't you dirty it up a little more? 

richard_blues: (speaking from America) dito sa tabi ng bahay namin, may pinoy na sando at pajamas lang ang suot, kahit malamig sa labas

nightdreamer: sheesh epal naman nun

nightdreamer: Kung sa America nagpapajama sila, but when they go to Manila's starbucks they wear jackets? 

About FGD (edited and cleaned)

I'm not in the position to disclose the details, but for those of you who blog with i.ph, you will get a fat list of new features coming very soon.

How do I know this? I participated in i.ph's FGD yesterday. Heck if I remember what that acronym stood for. I was among those who were invited to join this discussion, where the big boss of i.ph would present some new features and ask for our comments or ideas. We were so cordial to each other that it's like we were some hippies high-5-ing and weed-sharing at Washington Square. Of being treated like this, I felt so privileged, and I…

Oh, has everyone left the building?

*Deep breathes*

Dammit, I'll be honest. I don't know if wits (he was beside me) or Peter Juan (the big boss) noticed, but I was in such a nervous wreck! The entire time! Look, there I was, side by side with bloggers who know, write and smile better than I do (# # # # # # - I need to verify some of the other attendees's links). Compared to them I was like a troglodyte spending the first night in the city. I looked very silly being offered the same privilege as them when, writing-proficiency speaking, I wasn't even among their peers. And their toothbrushes were better than mine too. I don't even think I'm that good of a writer to begin with, and my being there felt like having Bob Ong sit besides Toni Morrison, Orhan Pamuk, and Alice Walker on a press-con. Have you ever felt guilty of being treated like a VIP along with people who deserved it FAR MORE?

Take a gander at my blog. (yeah ok so this really is a moronic come-over statement of epic proportions, because how the hell could anyone have read this far without having already taken a "gander" at my blog? It's like coordinating a game where you start with "want to play a game?" followed by "let’s play a game" before announcing the mechanics. I mean what the heck stop wasting our time and get to the point already. Kind of like what I'm not doing now. And I'm certain that you've already forgotten the statement that came before all these parenthetical junk [what, you're back-reading? Cheater…] but I like seeing your confused face so haha. Anyway, do you think that starting with 'take a gander at my blog' is incredibly dumb too? Yeah? Agree? *High fives*.) How could I even compare to the whole lot of everyone in my dope list? (Yeah, I probably wrote longer parenthetical statements than they ever did, so cue the dumb-smuggery [sounds a lot like “douchebaggery”].)

You know how it felt to be nervous? It was like being transported to another planet with capricious gravity (now that's an idea I like. Wistful me: "Please gravity be light now, so I can dunk like Josh Smith!"). Then I'd be itchy in an unknown region, and I would try to locate the source of itch by scratching random parts of my feet/legs/palms/elbows but I wouldn't feel the itch leaving nor the pain coming even if my skins were already reddish.There was also the trademark hands-shaking and eyesights-fading.

I did enjoy the FGD, but not to the extent that I hoped. That really wasn't anyone's fault but mine, because although it was a very enlightening event, I had been uneasy all throughout that when it ended I kept telling Ley (she works there) that I was so nervous, but she only shot me back this "what pot is he smoking" look because I didn't appear nervous. My God if only she knew how I felt, um, with being among that roomful of better writers.

So anyway, if you blog with i.ph you'll be having a slew of new features in the not-so-distant future. And if you've read this pointless post up to this point (groans of "not again" heard from crowd) you'd also know that my self-esteem had taken a nosedive. Yeah, dotPH will improve. My writing skills need to too so, you know what, I'm going to sharpen my pencils and wipe clean my reading glasses.

They will be useful this Christmas.

Desperadas

Ladies and gentlemen, let me present one of this year's entries for MMFF. Directed by Paul Wilson Gardon, it stars Ruffa Gutierrez, Rufa Mae Quinto, Iza Calzado and Marian Rivera, and it is about four women who… ah what the heck writing synopsis is so boring, so please just read it elsewhere. 

I give you, Desperadas. Click that link, view the trailer, read the synopsis, and then come back to me.

My thoughts?

This is a fantastic showmanship of creative prowess! It totally does not remind me of Desperate Housewives. In fact, this movie's name couldn't resemble that sitcom less! 

Seriously, what is the deal?! Movies like this are made, and then nominated for MMFF (which should stand for Many Mucus Festering Forward)? Should I be saddened that the Philippine cinema is, once again after a Billion times, imitating another popular Hollywood show? Should I be amused that this particular movie is aping a show that has not been very kind to Filipinos? Should I laugh at how movies like this are considered "worthy of accolades"? Or should I be angry that it stars Ruffa Gutierrez, an obnoxious celebrity hall-of-(in)famer? Gee I am so ambivalent SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME DEVELOP MY EQ WALA AKONG E-KYOOOOOO!!!!!!!111111111111111 

It's bewildering how a lot of Filipino directors refuse to pitch in any original ideas, and instead they are content on copying international films. Why? Don't they feel any shame? It's like none of them ever want to take risks and make movies that change people, and all they do is create formulaic "sure box office hits" that do not have any relevant messages, but will sell anyway because people will eat them up so they could see all these sexy actresses and corny scenarios. "Nevermind that we're giving our film industry a negative image, as long as we can earn money and party at Embassy who cares about creativity and all that jazz, right?!" Huzzah! And speaking of sexy actresses, I wonder if Marian Rivera wasn't selected because of her timely popularity. If this movie made last year, would the director even choose her and not Angel Locsin? DING! Didn't think so myself; I guess the only thing important these days is if the actress appears on Men's Magazines™ or not. 

You know what, we need a Desperate Housewives episode that has Teri Hatcher saying, "OK, before we go any further, can I check these scripts? Just to make sure they aren't, like, from some film studio in the Philippines?" And then cue the picket lines of outraged Filipinos crying "racism" and "bigotry", the blogs tossing highfaluting vocabulary (or is it vogue-call-bull-gallery?) to spite American producers for not understanding our real talent, and the fandom-ish comments saying Americans are "gaytards". Then the American producers will counterattack by presenting "Lupin, Asian Treasures, Marimar, and Zaido" as evidences, but Filipinos will curse them anyway for their insensitivity, until someone from the government will "level" the debate by delivering a boring ass speech! Everyone will kiss and make up, and it will back to business for everyone until history repeats. That will be something worth watching, definitely better than wasting your bucks on Desperadas. 

I wonder if we'll get Bayani or Dr. Bahay or Tulak Sampaguita next year.

Quiet Sunday

I'm sure this is a question that has given the world's greatest thinkers many sleepless nights and endless shouting matches that eventually led to fistfights like those common in the Taiwan's House of Congress, but what does THE NIGHTDREAMER do on a quiet Sunday? Because I'm starting to feel sorry about what thinking of me may do to your health, I'll just answer the question. Ain't I the kindest?

(All right, Nightdreamer, knock it off with the fake conceit.)

I rarely get a quiet Sunday, but I won't mention the reasons of that here. After all, I'm NOT EVEN THAT KINDHEARTED SO MAY YOU EARN EVEN MORE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS WONDERING WHY I'M BUSY WAHAHAHAHAHA! Ahem. When I do get a quiet Sunday, like today, I have difficulties doing productive things. Instead, I just spend most of the time in my own room being unfocused.

Today's case can demonstrate how unfocused I can be. I'd nap, surf the internet, read a few chapters of Good Omens, play with my Nintendo DS for a few minutes, listen to music, update my blog, change my mind about updating my blog, eat some junk foods, nap, get out of my room and circle the house without wearing any slippers (which, by the way, does not even match in color), go back to my room, send SMS's, surf the internet, listen to music, open Nightdreamer, log on to my YM, check results of today's NBA games, log off my YM, try again to update my blog, turn off music, turn it on again, play a few other retro videogames on my emulators, etc. You'd have a harder time keeping track of what I'm doing today than you would in trying to understand the plot of a postmodernist novel. 

On any other day, I would think that days like today are infuriatingly boring. Strangely enough for today, however, I'm finding this boredom to be refreshing when contrasted with the events of last week. Last week was crazy. Just read my previous few entries.

No, actually my previous entries did not detail everything. I did not tell you that from last Sunday to last Friday, I slept later than 1 AM. As a result, I was so incredibly tired the entire day yesterday that even if I had originally planned to go out with my friends, I withdrew so that I could go home and sleep. I felt bad about that, but if I didn't go home I could've fainted in the middle of Glorietta and couldn't have waken up even if somebody bombed that place after which the police would come and disseminate that it was caused by an accidental methane gas leak.

But I wasn't merely tired because of lacking sleep. I was tired because of what happened on Friday night.

It was the first time I've ever seen the inside of a room in Victoria Court, or to those who aren't familiar, the room of a love hotel. Err, keep that furrowed brows out of the monitor please; it's not what you think. The people from our office chose this venue for our annual Christmas party. The idea was that the party was to have a retro and 70-ish Austin Powers theme, and since Victoria Court had a so-called Austin Powers room, they took this room for the sake of, um, corporate entertainment.

The room had disco lights that were useless as reading lights, but I guess people don't come to motels to read War and Peace. It even had a cage, a stage for dancing, a twin-sized bed built with a heart shape, a jacuzzi, and a makeout room. And there's a menu of whips or lubricants or some sexy what-have-you's that you can purchase from the motel's delivery service. I cringed at this sight, because it was incredibly bawdy. I also thought that calling this an Austin Powers room was stupid, because it was merely adorned with a few flags of Britain and an Austin Powers logo on the floor. Nothing else from the movie was there, save for a small poster of Mike Myers hanging in that makeout room useful for those who get stimulated when having sex in front of Mike Myers' silly grinning face.

We had our Christmas party. There were some eating and drinking (which wasn't all that bad), but what really was the gist of the event was the group presentation, and preparing for that was precisely what made me very busy in the days before. Our group's hard work paid off, though, because we won the 1st place by doing some silly midget show (which was basically dancing, except the dancers were made to look like midgets). We won P5000 too.

I also received many gifts, like a 1 GB mp3 player which was useless as a music player when compared to my iPod, but useful as a storage device. I also got a copy of Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman. So, yes, I actually enjoyed this event.

There wasn't any sex when I was still around. I left early. If anything had happened to those who remained, I'd rather not know about it.

Two days after and my life is returning to normalcy. Although, bringing the 70-ish retro theme up reminded me of funk music and its psychedelic anarchy. Oh how I love that. Want to hear one? Then click on this.

Richard Jacques - Everybody Jump Around

Dope Blogs

If you've paid attention to all of my blog's content - meaning you have a crush on my blog - you'll find a section called "Dope Blogs". 

What are these? They're my "blogroll", except I hate the world blogroll. It sounds like a stack of underwear falling, and rolling afterwards. Gee, what is it with me and underwear anyway? I hope that makes it abundantly clear how much I hate that word, so if you feel tempted in adding me to some list (why thank you!), don't tag by saying you'll put me in your blogroll. That'll make me think you've got obsessions on rolling me in your underwear. Eww.

Today I will introduce you to those blogs on my list. What should you expect? Why, that today's entry will be more optimistic! Like rainbow and butterfly and polka dot pants optimistic. Well, ok, not like that. Expect this to be sort of like when I acquiesced with my classmates in singing "If we hold on together", but because I'm such a hardened rebel, I sang "If we hurled on together" instead. That kind of better-than-refusing optimism. If that intimidates you, go read some clinical Bob Ong tripe or something. If that does not intimidate you, then please be comfortable, for I will exalt these authors and give you a worship guide! Why? Because I love my readers! 

"But Nightdreamer, that sounds so weird coming from you!"

Shut up! I hate you!

Gene Park # - He's a journalist from Hawaii and is quite a guru on worldly issues. I don't know where he gets all his knowledges from, but I like reading him because I often end up learning a lot.

Mike Doolittle # - He's a personal trainer, who likes to play videogames and build high-end PC's. He also spends his time playing the guitar and reading religious books. Sounds weird enough? 

Casa de Bracken # - It's really painful that I have to wait a month before Mike Bracken updates his blog with comprehensive reviews of movies, games, comics or whatever it is he's geeking out on. 

Unfortunately the first 3 blogs require a myspace account to read.

Sam Oh Show # - Yes, it's Sam Oh, the host from ETC. We actually know each other, and she was the one who introduced me to Murakami (and I hope she's enjoying Watchmen, a graphic novel I encouraged her to read). Unfortunately, I think she's deleted her friendster blog, so if anyone knows if she has another blog, please inform me.

The Philippine Experience # - Allow Schumey to brush up your knowledge of the Philippine culture, people and politics. It's political read minus the pounding-readers-into-submission-with-legal-terms. Great stuff all throughout. Power to the people!

Thoughts in Disarray # - My best friend's blog. Michelle's been spending a lot of time getting all different kinds of licenses (mostly medical. She majored in some college of medicine subject) and it's great that her hard work is paying off. She loves the internet more than I do though, so expect a lot of dorkiness. Hahaha.

Astra # - if I'm not mistaken, Twinkle works for rotaract. A good writer, but she needs more updates.

Empyrean # - Ley is my first web design teacher (I now have four). I don't know what it is about being in her company that makes people so ebullient, but that's just the way it is. Is that why she calls herself empyrean? She loves to write too. And she is a Harry Potter fangirl. The book 7 that I read was actually hers; too bad I didn't like the book.

Dirty Lil Secret # - Aunt Adelaine from Malaysia, oh how I love to tease her around. Right, aunt?

Nifty Universe # - Novz is probably less old-fashioned than the name of his blog suggests. Haha I so love making fun of people. Please don't do that to me though, because I'm tall. Kidding. Anyway, novz love of writing seem to be at a recrudescence, and he might post short stories someday. I hope I could do the same.

At Wit's End # - Hardly. Your wit will not end with reading dhey's posts, unlike when you read my awful puns. Ouch did I write that? Sorry, I'm not erasing it. YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! I don't know what it is about dhey's blog that is so addicting. Maybe it's the unpretentious humility, the simplicity and the optimism of it?

EOD's Other Side # - I admit I haven't read her that much, but I like some of her Photoshopped works.

Cubicled Playground # - I suppose it's about corporate topics. Also, Cyril's married for 2 years. He's a new blogger. Having a newfound love for writing, perhaps?

The Nut Box # - YOU WILL LOVE THIS BLOG AND IF YOU DON'T I WILL HYPNOTIZE YOU! Reading J is like talking to a child prodigy whose head is not all in the clouds unlike some arrogant "genius" that I know of who'd talk down to others as "not the same level". So, yes, J and I are at the same level. Hahaha!

[disclaimer: in case you may think that I made that "genius" guy up, I did not. And also, I'm not talking about me, I promise.] 

The Exile of a Superstar # - I only met wits recently, and already I'm finding his blog posts very entertaining. And creative too. Too bad he's an Atenean. Saying you're Atenean is like admitting that you listen to Michael Learns to Rock. Hahaha! By the way I have like two blogs on my list that has "wit" in them somewhere, so what does that say about the person compiling the list? Probably not acerbically much?

Behind the Shrubbery # - Yeah, you tell them Liz, nothing should be taken at the face value EVAR!!!1111 So all you graphic junkies who laud Transformers (2007) because it has all these CG's, I'm sorry to say this but TRANSFORMERS SUCKS! Anyway, read Liz if you like sci fi, philosophy and politics. And if you don't, then go read the confession of some heiress or something, you productive "deipnosophist"!

Tainted Song # - If she was actually Joni Mitchell it would be tres cool (and blue) but as it is, Tainted Song is still quite good. And Joni, for some reasons, is really enamored with Michelle's blog. Also, there's something to be said about my constant digressions or corninesses. What does it say about me? I don't want to find out.

Tales of the Fencesitter # - I only just added fence, so I don't have too much comment. But yeah, he writes well, and yet he's claiming to have a Dominique Francon moment? I shrugged.

Drinking Coffeecola # - "it is good and it's good for you" is what Brad will tell you. He testified that mixing coffee and cola made for a drink that have him stay awake finishing a video game he rented. I don't want to know how it tastes though. His blog is new, but I've read him in too many places to realize that he's got skillz! Go figure how.

Those are my list of blogs worth reading. Anyone knows more?

O Hai!

Im at ur sk1tzbuk, d01ng a t1tan1c!

Shanghai, Baby!

Hey all, 

I'll be going to Shanghai at December 21 and I'll be back at December 25. It will be my first time being at Shanghai,  so I'm looking for some helpful information about where I should go, what itineraries to follow, what travel advices to observe, and where to shop.

If anyone has experiences or knows a site - like a travel site or blog or something - I'll like it very much if you could help me out and enlighten me.

Yikes (UPDATED)

You're about to read about my first disaster since I turned 24.

The person owning the YM handle don_django is Don Riosa, who is my best friend from since when I was in elementary. A while ago, he messaged a request that I buy him 13 P300 loads, and he would pay me through my bank account.

At first, I refused and asked a lot of questions, like why he couldn't just buy them himself. He said he's living with his aunt and there isn't any Globe shacks nearby. I thought he sounded earnest, so I was convinced that he really needed my help, despite my minor reservations about why he would need that much cards in a day. I even gave him my bank account number so that he could pay.

So I went to the bank and withdrew fat wads of cash, headed off to the nearest prepaid card dealer (which wasn't very hard to find) and bought 13 P300 cards. I then went back to don_django and started giving him the cards' codes.

At the very moment when I was about to scratch off the 7th card's protective ink, my mobile phone beeped, and I received this SMS (I'll edit it to non-text speak):

"Jou, it's Don! Add my new YM dpr_busta. Disregard my old ID don_django! A lousy bastard is using my [bleeping] ym! [Bleeping] ina niya."

I looked at the sender, and it was indeed Don Riosa. And just then, I stared stupidly at the phone while I get this sick feeling inside my gut. I even called Don Riosa to confirm that it was indeed him who sent the SMS. He was shocked. Well, Don, you're not alone.

My god, I've been swindled! Apparently someone has hacked into my best friend's email account and were sending strange requests not only to me, but also to my best friend's other associates. One even agreed to meet "Don" somewhere, and boy do I hope that nothing bad should come out of this.

I know there might be some smug ass readers who will lecture me on all the should-have-beens but there's just no way, absolutely NO RETARDED way, that you'd have acted differently. Why? Because it's best friends we're talking about here, and then came a jackass who took advantage of their trusts toward each other.

It's a good thing Don actually sent me an SMS, because it only validated that the real him is still a trustworthy person.

I'm very pissed, so I may be losing a lot of logical reasoning at the moment. See, I couldn't even write this blog properly, and right now I feel like my eyesights are fading. I think I need to lie down. Anyway, I'll just say that you should be wary of hackers. If someone sends you an instant message asking for some favor, find a way to confirm that the sender is the real owner of that chat account. 

And if you're Don's friends, please delete don_django from your YM because don_django is someone you used to know.

So now I've got that warning out of the way, can someone tell me what the possible risks are if someone knows my bank account number?

UPDATE:

I just regained consciousness, and then I ate. It's funny how sleep and spinach have a weird pacifying effect on me. No, there's no way of reclaiming the cash, but I think I'm okay now.

It's funny that with the rise (and I'm hoping now is no longer the stage of it) of all the emo's popularity, it's been really vogue to paste angel wings behind everything. You know, these days anything with angel wings attached is "the shiznit". So let me tell you this: once you have those angel wings attached on your money, suddenly they're not so cool anymore. 

I received commiserations from my kindest friends (thank you very much), and I retrospected. Maybe I've been too naive, but how the hacker behaved seemed so natural. Honestly, Don's almost my exact opposite. I'm a little antisocial while he's the poster boy for "party animal", so the possibility that he'd need this much load made sense to me.

What I should have done is ask 3 questions with answers only Don and I know, like when it is we became best friends, who his favorite basketball player is, and who my most hated elementary teacher is. But whatever, there's no reversing time. Sometimes life has a funny way of teaching its lessons by bitch-slapping you.

For future references, I'll say some helpful information about me. I am someone who rarely finds himself ever needing financial help of people outside of my family. Actually, I don't like how it feels to have debts, and if I borrowed money from you (a deed I loathe) I always make it a point to pay back as soon as possible. So what's my point? I'm saying that if in yahoo messenger you have received a message from my ym handle saying it needs financial assistance, you should be very suspicious. First, you should try to contact me by other means. And if that's not possible, ask my ym handle my personal information related questions, like what my zodiac sign is and what my abstinences are.

During tough times like this I find it helpful thinking about a completely unrelated optimistic thing, like the Shanghai trip I'll be having this Christmas. It's been helpful, and I'm better now because that's where I focus my thoughts. So, yes, I should be more alert, but there's no point of being angry for too long.

That said, if anyone finds out who the hacker of the don_django account is, please send him/her my coldest regards.

Story of the Past

Durrr… I must be extremely bored constantly posting new entries these 3 days.

I've been reading some past entries of my older blog. I ended up quite embarrassed. I write very differently now, and if my past self and I were two different person trading manuscripts, I would've asked him to do a lot of editing and I'm sure he'll ask me to do the same. BUT, I must admit, reading his entries brought back memories, and I have a few favorites. Oh wait, did I just refer to my past self in the third person? What's happening to me?

Anyway, I'm going to post one of his, uh, my past entries here. And yes, I edited it.

Children Comparison

- First written on December 6, 2006 

I've always detested a habit I call "children comparison". It's when parents keep bragging about their children's achievements in front of other parents.

I hate children comparison because parents do it to incite jealousy. Of course my parents have encountered other parents who do this, and I was scolded because I wasn't like their kids. Fine, but what if I want to be different? What if I'm not interested on accounting but more on flying a pirate ship exploring some secret cavity of a planet made of crystals?

Anyway, perhaps it is part of human nature for people to be proud of those they care about, and I can't fault parents if they feel this way to their children. But, there has to be a limit. Some parents speak of their children's many talents only when people asked. Others, like this mom I met yesterday, are very presumptuous.

I was on community service then, when this mom would constantly interrupt me. She asked if I could give her advices on how to cope with her hostile husband. I didn't have any advices for that. How would I know? I didn't apply for marriage counseling did I?

After I had rambled about how ignorant I am, she smiled smugly and said I'm young and a greenhorn, unlike her children. She then started to brag about how wealthy she is because of her children. And I'm sure you know what's about to start.

Her story sounded credible in the first two minutes, but it didn't take long before she started to sound like someone with a false sense of reality. Like, for example, how she claimed that all her children are UP grads. And they are, as a matter of fact, valedictorians. Yeah, ok. She then went on to say that her only son is a pilot who has a stewardess as a fiancée. Ooh how romantic, finding love in the skies; EXCEPT, I've never heard anyone studying in UP for 4 years and then becoming a pilot. Where the freeway at, the Sunken Garden?

She said that her daughter is taking up nursing. That makes it her third time making dubious claims. If you were a UP "valedictorian", would you even choose to endure another two years studying nursing? As far as I'm concerned, UP alumni who graduated with honors could be affluent in less than 30 days. Why take up nursing? Even if you consider that the daughter might want to change careers, why would she choose to study as a nurse and not as a doctor, a degree UP is very prestigious of?

Oh, but none of what she had narrated so far could prepare me for what she was going to say next.

She told me a lot of guys are attracted to her daughters. And then, ON THAT SPOT, flat-out, forwardly, aggressively, and boisterously… all right, please wrap your head around those adverbs first before I say anything else. Ok, ready? Prepare for this horror. She flat-out (et al) wondered if I wanted to marry one of her daughters.

What the hell!

She even showed me (or was it shoved to my eyes?) their pictures, and I had no choice but to politely agree that they're pretty. I say politely, because I was trying as much as possible to hide the "I don't dig her" tone with my acquiesced "affirmation". By the way, anyone who knows me knows that when I dig a girl, I never say "she's pretty"; I say "she's hot!" In fairness, her daughters (if they're really hers) aren't exactly ugly, but they're not exactly edible either. But that's beside the point: I don't want this mom as my mother-in-law. Imagine, she had barely known me for more than an hour and already she was proposing an arranged marriage? And if what she said about her husband was also the truth, I don't want in-laws who aren't at good terms with each other. I'm not a marriage counselor!

Those are, amazingly, not the end of her stories! The conversation (more like, her soliloquy) went to such absurd ways that it became about her children's IQ. Why I should care is a question Dan Brown could base his next conspiracy novel on. Anyway, she told me her eldest son has an IQ of 99.5. About that "eldest", one minute she said she had an only son, the next minute he's the eldest son. I'm dying to hear about her younger one then. Oh, and the IQ. I pretended to be dumb - it's a very effective mask, believe me -  and questioned the mom about what IQ 99.5 means. She said 99.5 means… hey, shut up Microsoft Word, get your curly underline out! She said 99.5 means "nearing genius". Hah! She has no idea! What would that have made me then, Marilyn vos Savant? And I've never heard of IQ with decimal numbers. That mom then told me that the same kid got a 99.5 in NCE. (I see she likes that number.) Fine, except, she never asked the score of the "greenhorn" she's talking to. I (and a lot of OTHER classmates) scored 99.8, and I don't give a damn. I have tossed the scoresheet 7 years ago.

Has 99.5 become a favorite number these days? Maybe that's what reflects that mom's IQ. It actually is "almost normal". And geez, I really don't care about the IQ of the people I hang around with (and it's not something I overtly ask from my acquaintances or even my close friends). Am I the only one who find people who go out to compare their IQ to others to be utterly unpleasant? But since she's bought this unto herself, I have nothing much to say to her other than to stop bragging about her fantasy, because it's really very stupid!

Man, why do I get to meet so many weirdo anyway?

Word (Updated)

Nah who needs introduction? I think I'll just go ahead and put a few words I love/hate. In no particular order. I love chaos. Palahniuk would be so proud.

Word: Word

Love/Hate: Word!

Uh, yeah, that was cheap. Next!

Word: Blogosphere

Love/Hate: hate

Clumsy. I was never a fan of the word blog because it sounds so much like the sound of your stacks of underwear falling to the ground. But blogsophere?! It gives me a much funnier image, like an entire world falling apart and people are still out there dancing to obnoxious techno (is there any other kind?) while wearing burlap thong underwear. 

Word: Defenestrate

Love/Hate: Throw something out of your window? What word could possibly be more awesome than this?!

Word: Bitch

Ha you saw this one comi-, er, arriving, didn't you?

Love/Hate: Love and hate, bitches!

I don't particularly loathe the word: it works very well as an intensifier. I just hate it when girls call themselves "bitch" as in "Babe In Total Control of Herself" when it could’ve been interpreted as "Babe Insisting To Cumwhore Hersex!" Yeah, those are portmanteaus, but stop bitchin' dammit!

By the way, acerbic wit extraordinaire Malu Fernandez calls herself a bitch. Uh, yeah, anyone remember who she is?

Word: Stately 

Love/Hate: I won't tell you. Read this instead: 

"Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air."

Ulysses starts like that. Is that your nose bleeding?

Word: Triskaidekaphobia 

Fear of number 13? SLICK! 

Word: Induhvidual

Love/Hate: How could I hate it? It sounds identical to "individual" and people with hearing problems (basically, everyone) will not be able to tell the two apart. So you can call people induhvidualistic and they'll respond to you favorably while you try to hide your chortle. 

Word: Ninjas

Love/Hate: Someday they will kidnap the president:

Word: Pirates

Love/Hate: They're, like, the new working class hero. Leave those Van Damme trash flicks to Video City. In the Philippines, who else tries to cater to the crowd of Seven Samurai, Apocalypse Now, The Man on the Train, or La Femme Nikita? 

Word: Haute Couture 

I hate "WRITERS" who try to sound intelligent BY INSERTING ASSORTED FRENCH AND LATIN WORDS! Dios mio! And something about haute couture, ipso facto, sounds très haughty.

Word: Haller 

(It does not mean a person who… dwells… in the halls.) 

Tagalog Heritage Dictionary says any word is "legitimate" as long as some rabid fans are enamored by the pa-­cute (want to know what pa-cute is nearly homonymous to?) personality using such word. SEE ALSO: JOKE JOKE JOKE, kering-keri, grabe over grover, itsumo kokoro (Tagalog style), pwe-DEH!!!!!!!1111111111111. Really stupid, really. For real. Realxactly. Anyway, say haller instead of hello if you live in 2005. Something like, you've had me at haller?! 

If you're hafi with haller, then ok fine whatever VV. Davah?! 

Anyway, I hate the word.

Word: Non-issue

I don't hate the word itself. I just hate how people (especially defenders of a scandalous president *ahem*) use this word. "Those deeds have passed so it's a non-issue". Blech.

Word Phrase: Superman dat ho

Love/hate: Hate! JUST WHAT THE HELL DOES IT MEAN ANYWAY?! 

I know what you're thinking. Nightdreamer, why not use all the words you've listed? Oh dear, I wish I hadn't brought that up.

In the tavern is a haute couture bard,

Who prides in swindling bitches.

By singing of the blogosphere,

He earns from stately arrivistes.

Of his words are, of induhviduals who,

Defenestrate their riches.

Where ninjas come to kill their foe,

A non-issue to their niches.

And a ship named Superman dat Ho,

Has pirates who loot riches. 

But on 13, the bard has left,

And everyone notices.

He says he's a triskaidekaphobic moron,

But all drunkards say "Haller?! He's Jason."

… 

I'm tired. I haven't slept for more than 10 hours since I turned 24. Hope you enjoyed reading this post, however nonsensical it is.

Letter to 23

23,

Do you remember yesterday when I stayed up until midnight just to watch you go? It reminded me of the poignant airport scene where two friends wave goodbyes to each other before going their separate ways, uncertain if they will ever see each other again. In our case, we won't, and this is a hard goodbye. That's why I'm writing to you to mark the occasion.

Oftentimes when two friends know that it's their last day together, they would try their best to make it a memorable one. One way they do this is by going to places that meant something to them. Another way is to go somewhere they've never been to before so that they can for one last day savor the joy of discovery. Unfortunately for yesterday, none of this was possible. We had to attend someone's wedding, and you know very well that that's an experience I don't enjoy (except if it's MY wedding, which you did not bless me with, but that's okay). 

You also know that I don't like it, not because I am jealous of other's successes, and not because I hate mushy whatever-there-is's (though I tolerate only certain extents of it). I like seeing people at peace and in love with each other, and what has happened is indeed a blessing for yesterday's bride and groom. I don't like attending weddings because, specifically, I don't like the traditional wedding banquets. Yesterday's was no exception.

Remember that? Looking back, a lot of unintentionally funny things happened, although they're the kind of "funny" that infuriates more than amuses. Let's start with the edible stuff they're trying to pass off as food. 23, if it won't burden you much, please pass a message to people who you are connected to. If they're non-vegetarians, ask them to be vegetarians. And if they're already vegetarians, tell them to avoid asking seafood restaurant chefs to prepare their foods. We vegetarians don't eat meat because of health issues and/or animal compassion. Just because we have an extent of asceticism does not mean that we don't enjoy great-tasting foods.

For some reasons, chefs of seafood restaurants believe that vegetarians enjoy gastronomic torture. And so what they do every time - believe me, it's not just yesterday - is they just sauté vegetables that do not even go well with one another, and then cram overwhelming number of mushrooms to hide just how bland-tasting their preparations are. I must've eaten more mushrooms yesterday than the Super Mario Brothers do in all their games. Eating these foods is like cramming your stomach with the residual "soup" from Del Monte's canned fruits. Needless to say, that does not feel so good.

Oh, and what's a wedding banquet without the generic schmaltzy "love ballads" from Jim Brickman, David Pomeranz, or Barry Manilow? Good thing only a few of them were played yesterday, and we didn't have to endure some lazy ass "jazz" of "Careless Whispers", "It Might Be You" or "My Heart Will Go On" with soprano sax's overdubbing the original instrumentations. So what do we get instead? Some kitschy "Bossa Nova" renditions of "I Didn't Know I Was Looking For Love" (and similar songs) sung by fastfood divas who "honor" Astrud Gilberto in their liner notes but don't know how to sing like her (and if you've ever seen them live, watch out for those trumpeters or saxophonists who tilt their hat, slick back their hair and wear smug expressions to look like Frank Sinatra. Ugh). Bland music gives bland foods added depths of blandness.

And was it noisy! Gee, we must've been in a room with a lot of frustrated percussionists, what with all the spoon-to-glass banging that happens every 5 seconds. And how could we forget the SUCKAZ EMCEE, who cannot deliver a speech without being trite, evidenced from his lame-o Romeo and Juliet to his Ivanhoe-found-his-love (!) analogy. How come none of these zzz-rate wedding emcees realizes that Romeo and Juliet died an untimely death? Talk about trying to deliver a good omen. I'm also very curious about what particular girl Ivanhoe "married". If only the emcee tried even harder to sound literate, perhaps he may claim that Ivanhoe's "damsel" is, who, Dulcinea? Remember that time, 23? We were so embarrassed, that we left the room for 20 full minutes. 

Although the banquet was mediocre, we were happy about the newlyweds. They are terrific, and they deserve each other. Yesterday began a new phase of their lives, and though I won't claim this event to be as grand as theirs, 24's arrival today also begins a new phase for me.

23, we had a lot of good times. We went to Boracay. We took up web design. We saved money. We read a lot of great books. We created a new blog and earned a few new readers. We solved cases with Phoenix Wright (Do I hear you saying "Just what the hell are Harry Potter, Star Wars and Transformers"?).  We met new friends. We learned of who cherishes us and who doesn't. We watched Death Note. We saw Riza Santos and drooled. We listened to Gil Scott-Heron and cried. We contributed to the society the best we can. We gave gifts and learned what a wonderful deed that is. And I'm sure we did a lot of things I haven't enumerated here.

So I will miss you. I only hope that you can also grace other's lives with your presence, and grant them an important year. I will remember the important lessons you and all that came before you have taught, as I embrace 24 in hopes of growing wiser and living younger.

Gil Scott-Heron - I Think I'll Call It A Morning

December 10

International Human Rights Day. Monday. New Moon. Those are 3 ways people will describe December 10, 2007.

So my question is, how exactly do you make a new-mooned Monday a memorable day?

And perhaps it should interest you why I insist on making December 10 special. I don't know. I only feel like a new beginning is about to happen.

GMA TV Ads-Mockery UPDATED

Of course the previous post - the Kris Aquino shampoo ad — inspired this one. My brother, who has a degree in advertising, is quite fond of nitpicking TV commercials. And, well, it's a very contagious habit. 

I've been meaning to do this for a long time, but unfortunately only those who are familiar with advertisements that play on GMA TV will be able to understand just what in the piddling dandruff I'm going to blabber about. I tried to find videos of their ads in youtube, but they don't exist. Crap. I'll try my best to describe the ads, but if you're unfamiliar, then I advise you to turn on your TV and tune in to GMA while reading this entry.

So to begin…

Clear Shampoo

The Product: The shampoo has probably been around elsewhere for quite some time, but Unilever Philippines has only recently been publicizing it. Maybe it's new here then. Apart from being very fragrant, I don't know what sets it apart from the rest. My brother likes it though, so we have stocks. But, eh, I haven't had many dandruff since last year so I don't know if this shampoo is really effective.

The Ads:

• The first Clear Men ad: Bloody generic. A "credible" dermatologist claims that scalps of men and women are different and that the macho-er gender is more prone to dandruff. And that's why Clear has been developed to effectively eradicate dandruff from Men's hair using chemical formulas only chemists who are watching TV instead of working on some laboratories will see and understand. To see if this works (oooh the suspense!), the shampoo is tested. Oh, and cue the fancy pants violin music while some fancy pants camera rotate on some fancy pants guy holding his hair up to show his fancy pants scalp. Mr. Fancy Pants goes on to query "Can your shampoo do this" in the most fancy-pant baritone voice I've ever heard (with matching fancy pants facial expression). Bleh.
• The new Clear Men ad: Stars none other than the Korean singer Rain. What happens is that he basically dances and talks and dances and talks while wearing tight outfits and doing zazzy poses. The most infuriating part is the end where he announces that his name is Rain. Why thank you, you avant-garde bastard! I hope I can go back in time to tell Steven Seagal that he should say he's Steven Seagal after he's found gold in the Philippines. Also, no, your name isn't Rain. You're Jung Ji-hoon, and you're basically just taking a page from Final Fantasy's rosters of sulky effeminate protagonists with meteorological names, like Cloud, Squall, Tidus and Thunder. 

Head and Shoulders Shampoo

The Product: pretty effective, actually. My scalp pretty much got cleaned of dandruff when I used it last year. I hate how it smells though. It smells like a pungent mix of vitamins and dentist antiseptic.

The Ads:

• Post-first-Clear-Men ad: this begins with a trademark "yearbook-look" guy (who has a white man's blood, obviously. Why would they choose any other kinds?) waking up and getting dressed. And then he patronizes, "Dermatologists don't recommend based on what's best for men or for women". No, it has nothing to do with Clear Men, I swear. And then he adds "Nasa galing yan mag-tanggal ng Dandruff" before proceeding to give shampoo-jargons nobody cares about. Oh yeah? Well, here's something for your arrogant ass: Ad-scriptwriters don't recommend based on who's best for screen or for semen; nasa pagka-kano yan ng nagpapatalastas! I hate commercials that operate on the "basta kano, bebenta" modus operandi.
• The most recent Angel Locsin ad: I said the most recent because H&S uses Angel Locsin a lot. What happens here is that she wants to show off her dandruff-free hair by resting her head on the guy beside her. They clearly enjoyed the moment to the point that they've forgotten they've already reached the bus's end destination. Quite boring, really, except I can't help wondering why they weren't bothered by some ticket-inspection dude.

Rejoice Shampoo

The product: Oh I don't know about it. I haven't used one for a very long time.

The ad: I'll only mention one. Their latest is a continuation of a pseudo-telenovela story where a rich master is jealous of her beautiful slave. What happens in the latest is that there is, apparently, a prom going on. This katulong comes out while her hairpin conveniently falls and her hair unties, demonstrating that her hair is silky smooth. The prom prince notices. Meanwhile, the rich master gripes, "Paano siya naka-afford mag-rebond!" Well duh, Rejoice doesn't pick their models from where they actually pick domestic helpers, you know. They pick their models from, I dunno, La Salle? Ateneo? Benilde?!

Ariel Detergent

The product: Word is that it's good. I am not so sure, since I usually just toss my clothes on the washing machine, throw some random detergent that happens to be around, and let automation do its job.

The ad: Obnoxious, because the endorser is Vilma Santos, who's supposed to be governing a city instead of, you know, ACTING ON TV. Otherwise it's a generic labandera ad where the advertised product outdoes Brand X (poor Brand X). The most loathsome part comes when it shows Vilma Santos delivering a campaign speech where she asserts "Ngayon ang panahon ng pagbabago!" So this is the pagbabago you're talking about - that we now can use powdered soap instead of using the good-old bar? Very nice, although I thought you're talking about improving your city. Oh, and that flyover from your city has been under-construction for more than half a decade already.

Asenso Ad

The product: It's not a product.

The ad: A very delusional (and much maligned) political propaganda attempting to remind us that the lives of Philippines have become better. What happens is that a bunch of people from the rural part of the nation testify that their lives have improved.

I believe none of it. The place where they film this ad are so, well, rural, that whatever happens they're still going to have a pretty unchanging life anyway. That's already a contradiction. The people who recorded this ad (which I assume are from the government because they're the only dolts who'd think of doing this ad) obviously paid the folks from the rural areas with an okay life. They wouldn't choose a place where there isn't any electricity, or in another place where the school is a single-room house that doubles as a dentist office. In case you're wondering, my brother's been at both places. Another newsflash: those homes beside the Pasig River didn't evolve from squatter to studio apartment, did they? Oh, and need I remind you of THE Pasig River?

Next time you're going to tell me that the country has improved, at least demonstrate through reality and not through public TV - the haven for half-truths, if even that much.

DOJ Ad

The product: I assume, breast-milk

The ad: Very condescending for the reason that it flat-out insults our intelligence. Get this: the ad tells you that pigs feed their baby with pig milk and dogs feed their baby with dog's milk, so why should we feed our baby with cow's milk. What's awesome about this ad is that it's not only very low-quality, it's also funded by our government (by Department of Justice, to be particular). Nice. Our tax money is wasted for this shtick.

You know what, let's create another version for this stupid ad! Ang kalabaw, para sa pagsasaka. Ang pusa, para sa pagtanggal ng daga sa bahay. Eh ang buwaya, para sa paglilingkod ng bayan?!

Update:

Joy Detergent

The product: Quite good, actually. Then again, I'm not sure if any dishwasher detergents are better than its competitors and if the cleaning does not indeed come from the quality of the sponge used.

The ad: Is nothing special. It has anthropomorphic dish stains talking in that generic kengkoy voice before joy the detergent appears to wipe them permanently out of existence. Of course, the staple endorser Michael V starts talking about the detergent in his trademark corny-sounding chicken pitched voice. Besides Michael V's too-much-Kool-Aid mannerisms, I really don't know why people find him funny. That's all.

Who’s She?

After reading my previous post, my friend Schumey stated that hearing of the word "Bitch" reminds him of one woman of authority.

But I only agree with him 80%. When I think of a woman who fits the description of a harpy (na lang, wag bitch) the best, I think Kris Aquino. She's someone who has so much propensity to creating scandals that you have to wonder if she's doing them deliberately to whore up camera time (and to have Filipinos obsess over her private life instead of having them actually caring of what's happening AROUND them).

As she has announced lately, though, (set to generic-techno-with-lifeless-singing background music) she likes to do a million things every day, although her hair might be a different story. Baka ma-damaged daw.

But after using Pantene with all its awesome 7 formulas (it has to be 7. Not 6, 8 or 9. 7 has more zazz.) of being age-defying, ngayon she has time for all the things that matter, like talking her baby James to sleep.

I guess her hair is more important than her son then.

The B-Word and the BB Blues

Hey, do you recall a time when Friendster's bulletin boards were filled to the brim with funny, sensible and insightful people? Feels like an era past, doesn't it? Nowadays all I ever see are people selling bags, surveys from people with the IQ of Paris Hilton (not you, Chester. Hahaha), ANNOYING RED-HERRING CHAIN MAILS ABOUT GETTING MARRIED, dalagas complaining about how awful their yearbooks are, or whiners who post multiple messages whining about people spamming the bulletin board (see the irony there?).

But a particularly retch-worthy one, sadly, came from one of my closer real-life friends. Her bulletin post's title read "My Personalized Licensed Plate Number Says 'BITCH'". 

Why are so many girls tagging themselves with that word lately? I suspect that they don't know what bitch means and that they're just using it because Tata Young (with her song "Sexy Naughty Bitchy Me") and her contemporaries - i.e. pop icons with no brains or sensibilities whatsoever - made it trendy. It just reminds me of Sean Krapston trivializing the word "suicide" (don't get me started on this!). Upon reading my friend's bulletin post, my reaction was, "Great, just another in the long line of girls who think bitch is a word of female-empowerment."

If she actually bothered to read the dictionary (and try etymology) before using that word indiscriminately, this is what she'll find:

Bitch

–noun

1.	a female dog.

2.	a female of canines generally.

3.	Slang. a. a malicious, unpleasant, selfish person, esp. a woman. b. a lewd woman.

4.	Slang. a. a complaint. b. anything difficult or unpleasant: The test was a bitch. c. anything memorable, esp. something exceptionally good: That last big party he threw was a real bitch.

–verb (used without object)

5.	Slang. to complain; gripe: They bitched about the service, then about the bill.

–verb (used with object)

6.	Slang. to spoil; bungle (sometimes fol. by up): He bitched the job completely. You really bitched up this math problem.

I know that bitch has recently become a slang denoting a woman who, according to Urban Dictionary, don't give a flying f*ck anymore and that can and will be cruel to man. And hey, it's cool if a woman wants to verbally slam the male sex - even if males are conceived and parented by females (see the irony again?) - and instead of bad parenting she blames males' shortcomings to hiphop videos and Sly Stallone movies. What do I know, right? That still does not justify using of the b-word. She can use "dominator" or "dominatrix" or "menefreghista" or "misandrist" or "bad girl" for all I care. Why does she have call herself bitch - a word so thoroughly reviled, that people may interpret it as whores? Would she also want to be called puta? Or should we, like always, favor the anglicized (harrrrr)?

Girls, if you advocate equal rights, you owe your gender more dignity than to call yourselves bitches. Otherwise, please do not react when you hear Isiah Thomas's moronic remarks.

In case you didn't know, he said "It's acceptable for a black man to call a black woman a bitch."

Life's a bitch, innit?