broken record

Letters to Marge...

2012-01-10T03:27:00.000-08:00

Due to popular demand...

(which is really just me demanding of myself.
I am after all, popular to myself.
If you do not find yourself popular with yourself, then you have some serious problems.
Anyways, enough about me.
But no, you're here. In my blog. this is about me.
but...)
Anyways, my letters to marge will only be found here:
http://letterstomarge.blogspot.com/

Thank you all for reading. (All three of you... heh heh... Just kidding. There's four of you. No, there's more... No, wait... uhm... forget it...)

'catch you later.

Happy 2012, everyone...

2011-12-31T10:34:00.000-08:00

So the proverbial clock strikes twelve. Two thousand and twelve, that is.
I have lived to see my thirty ninth new year in what has been a rather colorful lifetime so far. Perfect timing for an upcoming mid-life crisis.

This new year's eve seems a bit mixed up for me. Many things to be happy about this past year, but many things are left hanging, and some matters are being pressed into directions i don't want, and will never be ready for. Oh, and i missed my first Maverick Christmas Party.

2011 marks another year of resistance to forces attempting to put changes in my life. It also marks the first year Margaret goes to school, where i found myself staring forlornly at the back of her head as she walked away from me and into her classroom for the first time. The wheels of her growing up have officially begun turning, and they'll gain more momentum as she goes on through what i hope will be a good life that i could somehow provide her. For a moment, i am filled with much dread, but the undercurrent is still joy.

The wife and i have begun designing our new home with the help of a friend. The new place that will be our home for the remainder of our lives, perhaps. But more on that this coming year.

The Maverick manpower expanded by a whopping ten percent, which brings the additional manpower to an impressive total of... two people. Yeah, the percentage sounded nice for a while there, huh? But in a house of 20 heads at last count, hitting 22 is still a bit of a stretch. After all, the biggest headcount we ever hit was 23. Here's to hoping we don't implode again like we did the last time.

The searing rekindled flames between me and the wifey have settled into a nice, comfy and steady burn. Fates willing, we'll burn softly all through to the remaining decades together. With the added bonus of the occasional "group hug" that Marge now orders us to do. That started this past 2011, too.

So has it been a good year? Yeah... Group hug, please.

'catch you later.

Letters to Marge (Chapter 28): Happy halloween...

2011-11-01T04:57:00.000-07:00

Dearest Margaret...

It's been a whole two months since my last post on this blog. Oh well, life seems to have taken over...

And i know that i said i had decided on ending this series of letters, i guess today i finally found myself bored enough without anything particularly intesting to write about, so i decided yet again to do another one.

You called me on the phone a while ago. A simple, short phone call that wasnt particularly earth shattering, nor memorable. We didnt talk about food, movies, books, politics, or even your mother. But it sure made the day of one bored dad who had to sit and wander around the store all day while you, mom, and a handful of others went to the beach. Paying my dues, i suppose...

But you called. And you made my day. Thanks, sweetie,

Around a couple of decades from now, when i've become for you the pest your mother swears i am when i'm not looking, nor listening, please give me a call once in a while. By then, you and i can talk about food, movies, books, politics, and yes, even your mother. Or, you can just ring me up to say hello-how's-life-dad-sorry-gotta-go. And i would answer and tell you that i'm doing just fine. Probably shorter than that shampoo commercial that just flashed on your screen right this very second. But believe you me, that phone call will always make my day.

So, here's a note to future Marge... Call me. Please.

Love,

Dad

P.S. Happy Halloween!
P.P.S. call mom, too, while you're at it.

Underachieving PNoy and the house of cockroaches...

2011-09-01T10:55:00.000-07:00

So what has President Benigno Simeon Cojuangco Aquino III done so far in his presidency?

Hmm… an easy question for some, especially the ones looking for actual infrastructure, and possibly more than a few bills, laws and whatnots… they mostly say that this man has not done anything worthwhile in his so far fourteen months in office.

No new roads, no new parks, no new lamp posts, no new road islands with monogrammed tiles (Hi, there, Herbert!), and stolen shots of his presidential desk show that he is not drowning in paper work. Such an underachiever of a president is Mr. Aquino, a.k.a. P-Noy. Boo hoo..

News flash: I ain’t crazy about ‘im. He ain’t the best thing since chopped liver was served to hippie vegetarians and unwitting Jehovah’s Witnesses. But I think he’s on to something.

I’ll keep this short and sweet by way of an analogy…

disgusted? you ought to be.
i know i am.

Imagine inheriting a house, and while you’re looking around, you find many nooks and crannies of crazy slam-your-ass-in-the-grass epic level cockroach infestation. What do you do? Would you ignore it and go on shopping for new furniture? Would you readily schedule the delivery of your brand new big-as-the-fucking-wall TV? Or perhaps run over to the mall and look into some lovely new bathroom fixtures?

No. if you are a home-owner of worth, you will go batshit crazy squashing every bug in sight and smoking out all those hiding in the corners.

As batshit crazy as PNoy ought to be after swearing himself in as president.

Once the bugs are gone, THEN let’s start thinking about the color of the new carpet.

‘nuff said.

‘catch you later.

The Myth of the Human Body (A Bare Bones Exhibit)

2011-08-25T03:22:00.000-07:00

see how too much msg in your food
really causes dehydration?

For those of you with a tinge of Necrophilia (not the sexual kind), and have always wondered what doctors, medical students and undertakers see on a semi-day-to-day basis, hop on over to the Neobabylon Building along Bayani Road in Taguig and catch "The Myth of the Human Body," the exhibit which has been extended until the end of this year 2011.

Okay, so that's my dutiful piece of plugging out of the way... Let's get to the real story...

The exhibit itself isn't bad. It's certainly a notch higher than me sneaking into the med labs in UST for kicks way back when i was a student. The fucked up part is "Myth" riding on Gunther von Hagens' groundbreaking "Bodyworlds" exhibit, when the exhibits were admittedly hand-me-down units bought out by some Korean investor. I also found the "myth" approach very corny, as it was merely done to shoehorn the visual concept of the exhibit hall itself into the show.

Brings a whole new meaning to the
term "wish i was dead."
But no, this isn't "Myth," this
is the real McCoy. There's the
oddball von Hagens to the right
of the corpses who are in heaven,
figuratively, as well as probably
literally.

I chanced upon some "Body Worlds" photos online aways back and found myself oddly fascinated with the idea of seeing human bodies peeled open and put in cool action poses. So when i chanced upon a poster for "Myth" which mentioned "Body Worlds" rather prominently, too promenently in fact, i totally flipped and bugged the wifey to go there with me. We eventually did, and i found myself just a wee bit disappointed. I pretty much got what i wanted, which was a bunch of corpses peeled up and shown. But they were far from the lovely, pink-muscled, bodies doing funky things like playing poker, riding horses, and even having sex. There were a few "standard" pieces like the skinned man, the high-fiving half man, and such... But these poorly preserved pieces made with Chinese cadavers were obviously not from von Hagens' collection... Most of the exhibit space was filled up with illustrative boards, and separated body parts. I suspect that these plastinated organs are merely salvaged from deteriorated full-body pieces. Hardly the witty, well-preserved exhibit known as Body Worlds. One other observation I made was that most Chinese farmers and/or dissidents/ victims of Communist human rights violations who were thrown into this exhibit mostly needed orthodontists. They also pretty much justified the stereotypical drawing of buck-toothed Chinese.

The supposed highlight of the exhibit was "The Red Man," which was the well-preserved plastic tracing of the entire human artery system using some red resin. It had the requisite glass enclosure with halogen spotlight, and must have been quite a sight when it was first completed. But... either due to poor shipping and handling, or the fact that such things were meant to happen anyways, so spare units/pieces were probably required... there were so many little pieces of intricate blood-vessel/nervous system lattices that were strewn on the floor of the glass casing. Quite depressing to see.

Cheers to the med student/usher who seemed like he did his best to make the show as interesting as he could, but the slight disarray and sometimes poor state of the exhibit pieces couldn't be covered up by enthusiastic talk.

'catch you later.

CD Review: "The Hands of Time" (Gino Padilla), A Gem Buried in the Quagmire Known as Contemporary Philippine Music

2011-08-23T11:24:00.000-07:00

Prepare for a dragging build up here, people...

Ages ago, it was on one of the very few instances when i joined the wifey in her late-night channel-surfing habits, when we stumbled upon a mestizo-looking singer who looked sort of like Gino Padilla on one of Sharon Cuneta's shows (I forget which one...).

Lo and behold, it WAS Gino Padilla.

The song he sang was "Keeping the Memories Alive," a fresh new track from his then brand new record called "Hands of Time." I was intrigued as the song had a good hook on it, and Gino Padilla's singing had always been flawless. But hey, it was late-night TV, and like most late-show fare, one forgets stuff when one wakes up the following day to the sound of either the cellphone set as a loud alarm clock, or the wifey yelling repeatedly that you are already embarrassingly late for work. Too bad for her i don't embarrass easily...

Fast forward to January, 2010... I was recovering from a life-changing chapter in my then sad excuse for a life, wandered into a record bar (one day, our children will wonder what a record bar is) and found "Let Me Be The One," a new album by Gino Padilla. That late-show performance from way back echoed back into my brain, and I quickly scanned the back for the song. No luck. But I picked up the album and have enjoyed all that music non-stop ever since. Read the review here. "Hands of Time" seemed to no longer be in stock, much less in print.

Through the fan/stalker's ultimate tool known as the internet, I managed to strike up a line of communication with Gino, and he generously sent me what i suspect is one of his personal copies of "Hands of Time." Endless spins on the CD player, and a year and a half later, here's the CD review...

Still there, reader? Good. Now let's talk about music... Good music.

* * * * * * * *

There's a reason "Keeping the Memories Alive," flooded back into my head over two years after the only time I heard it. It was simply a damn good song. Of course, it sounded and felt a bit like it was 1987 again. But hey, those were good times for OPM (Original Pilipino Music).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8EJIvn5UG9M

It's too bad radio (and TV) didn't give too much airtime to the album, as balladeers like Gino don't seem to get much respect lately, and get their share of attention mostly as retro-nostalgia acts. But despite being an album produced in the new millenium, "Hands" comes across more as a delectable slice of 80's OPM seemingly dug out of someone's secret trunk of unheard-but-shouldve-been-hits.

Cuts like the album's title song "Hands of Time," "Find that Child Hiding in You," and a handful of others on the disc all sounded like they belonged in the airwaves when they were ruled by Gary Valenciano, Martin Nievera, Raymond Lauchengco, Louie Heredia, and the Neocolours. If released back then, these would have been hits, and may probably be found nowadays in "Best of" OPM collections being hawked in Quiapo, and subsequently confiscated by the Optical Media Board.

Gino is obviously ecstatic about getting to record again. So ecstatic, that in addition to his personal thank-you song to his benefactor, Miss Sharon Cuneta, "Angel is Disguise," which was well-meaning, inevitably well-sung, but a bit sappy, the entire record sounds too damn happy. So happy in fact, that even the album's supposedly saddest song, "Let This One Go," where he finds the woman screwing around and eventually dumping him, doesn't sound remotely pissed and pained. It still sounded somewhat... happy.

But this record WAS cause for celebration for Gino, who came out of recording limbo with this album, and got to play in the sandbox known as the revival/remakes record market soon enough after this with the wonderful "Let Me be the One." now, people... THAT is still available out there. Do your ears a favor and go grab a copy now.

'catch you later.

Delayed Movie Review: Captain America (Bye-Bye, Miss American Pie... Hellooooo, Avengers...!)

2011-08-21T21:50:00.000-07:00

hurry up with the
movie, already...
everyone's waiting for
the trailer where they
can see Bob Downey!

Chris Evans, formerly known as Johnny Storm a.k.a. the “Human Torch” has been refitted with another superhero costume. This time, his all-American beach-blond apple pie-ness gets him dressed up as Captain America. Based on the comics, he pretty much looked the part. And his vanilla good guy-ness seems almost perfect to play vanilla superhero Captain America.

Like most of my reviews, you guys can forget about finding a plot synopsis here. Look here instead… or here even... or perhaps here…

Back yet? Good… let’s talk…

Hayley Atwell succeeds in making a military uniform sexy. Probably because of her well-endowed assets, but also probably because of that Brit accent. Early on, I was half-expecting Hugo Weaving (who plays the Red Skull) to suddenly sneer: “Mr. Anderson…!” But no, he didn’t. Stanley Tucci is always a joy to watch, and him playing off Tommy Lee Jones' standard typecasting as a gruff old veteran works out pretty well.

The thing about "Captain America" that strikes me the most was how they justified the creation of the stoooopid flag-themed cheerleader uniform into something that was part of a sepia-tinged war propaganda without making the character seem queer in his choice of outfit.

Marvel seems to have found an effective standard template for their movies, wherein they choose an era/period, then splice in the superheroes and sci-fi to funky up the genre… then VOILA… interesting superhero flick with a period twist. It worked for X-Men First Class, it will work for Captain America.

News flash: it did.

‘catch you later.

P.S. the best part was the Easter egg trailer… AVENGERS ASSEMBLE…!

i know what i really need now...
it's war time, and i will invent
the push-up, wired bra for e-cuppers
and make a fortune!!!!

Pictures from the Other Side of the Valley

2011-08-14T02:16:00.000-07:00

A long time ago, i have surrendered to the fact that i do not have the discipline to become a great photographer. My talent is marginal at best, and while i've taken a handful of decent ones in my time, i leave the real shooting to the pros.

But... i discovered a new route recently, after being assigned to cover in the other branch at the valley. And the scene seems so serene and the land seems so young... so i grab my underused camera, and take a few stops to snap the shots below (screened from a few more others)...

Pointless, hardly art, but what the hell...

Many scenes like this, where the clouds literally
touch the mountaintops.

green lushness like this doesn't last in the 21st century

this is a purpulous flowerus
idunnodaname-us.

same as the above.

i like purple. 'got a problem with that?

redus mountainside-us flowerus
(translation: it's a red flower growing on
the side of the goddamn mountain.)

the view before the descent into the valley...

the old volkswagen shop. used to be filled with... err... volkswagens.
converted to grayscale for "nostalgic" effect.

okay... so it isn't George Tapan... But hey... the shots weren't perfect, but the places were pretty, huh?

'catch you later.

Letters to Marge: Chapter 27 (See you in the future…)

2011-08-13T04:21:00.000-07:00

Dearest Margaret,

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything in here. You’ve learned how to sort of “really” talk for over half a year or so now, so what I might have written here before, I have been saying to you personally.

You should know that as of now, your mother and I classify you as quite noisy, but adorably so.

So far, it has been quite a wonderful year or so since my last e-letter. Your young achievements so far include:

- Finally starting to go to school.

- Going to ballet school

- Talking in fully comprehensible sentences
- Having seen the following movies in a cinema (in no particular order): Rango, Tangled, Mars needs Moms, Kung Fu Panda, Shrek, complete with gorging on pop corn.
- You also like taking pictures

Little quirks you have developed so far include:

- Calling all forms of meat on the dining table as “Chicken”

- Learning to discriminate and prefer low-fat milk, because “mommy said…”

- Holding my head and face and turning me to the direction of whatever it is you’re talking about.

- Being an absolute camera-whore

Oh, and you have thus far been able to spell and write your name. Congratulations, baby.

But I am sad to say that this is for now my last letter to you in this series. Because instead of writing to you about things, I am currently able to say them to you face to face. A much better deal, frankly.

So while this letter seems to sound like a long-winded goodbye, it really is my “official” hello to a fully talking you (batteries not included, nor needed).

I love you.

‘catch you later.

Dad

Hmm... Sa Tingin Ko Po Hindi Po Nagsisinungaling si Po...

2011-08-11T20:56:00.000-07:00

"dammit... i should have rigged those
choppers to explode when FG
bought them for the campaign..."

The wife and i recently made acquaintances with a nice lady and her daughter with whom we hope to close a deal in the very near future. We found them to be very nice people. Obviously affluent, but not aloof nor snobbish. They were from an old family of means, and we found out that we shared the same hairdresser, the same dentists, but unfortunately, not the same veterinarian.

They also happened to be the family a former employee of mine married into. Someone who only recently re-found me on Facebook and added me. I had the good fortune of having met with the husband almost a decade ago.

Just today, i found out they were family to Archibald Po. Yes, THAT Archibald Po. The Archibald Po who had in his testimony another piece of the big picture of theft, corruption, and Philippine decay painted by the tag-team from hell known as Mike Arroyo and Gloria Macapagal Arroyo.

I read up some more about Archibald Po and reaffirmed my already titanium-hard belief that he was a man who had no reason to lie at this point in his successful life. Heaven knows that if there's anything Gloria, Mike and their ilk know better than buying anyone off, is their penchant for revenge, both the political sort, as well as the not so savory toss-you-on-the-side-of-the-road sort. So if i was Archibald Po, i might opt to keep quiet and go about minding my own business and stay out of the thinning crosshairs of the vindictive Arroyos. But i'm not Archibald Po. I'm either a chicken, or dont think my daughter's old enough for me to take these risks.

But Po did. Po is.

"Look, Mike 'oh... akala talaga nila
mahuhuli nila tayo 'noh?"

I wish him the best of luck. If you've read enough through this pathetic blog, you'd see my contempt for she who was president. I've somewhat gotten tired of shooting at Gloria. It sometimes feels like shooting a water gun at a very big, invulnerable cockroach with a mole. But they're going down. Bit by ugly bit... 'can't wait.

'catch you later.

Art... Right...

2011-08-11T02:07:00.000-07:00

"But... but i'm a famous artist!
Of COURSE this is art... Look,
the TV news crews are here...!
Yehey..."

Dear Mr. Mideo Cruz,

I did not see your exhibit as i am currently out of town. But i did catch a lot news coverage about you and your supposed work that was on display at the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP). I also scoured the net and discovered that you are quite an established artist, having held exhibits abroad in major cities across the world.

I therefore conclude that you are an artist. A real one. Now that that's out of the way...

But the bits and pieces i've seen of your exhibit at the CCP is sadly, not art. Not in my eyes. And mind you, my eyes are not untrained. I've worked in the advertising industry as a creative professional for over a decade and a half. And while i have not won Araw Awards, Clios, and whatnots, I have had many important people respect and pay decently for my creative work, as well as my creative opinion. So i would like to think that my opinion can be considered a qualified one.

And no, sir. what little i saw is not art.

Just because you are an artist, it does not mean that whatever you produce is "art." Even those celebrity chefs like Anthony Bourdain (my wife's favorite TV chef/food critic), Jamie Oliver, and even the guy from Wok With Yan, etc. cannot just claim to put anything on our plates and palates just because "they are chefs." In fact, as chefs, i believe they are responsible for helping put together things that will provoke, reawaken, our taste buds, but ultimate help uplift our understanding of food. Just like artists like you. Supposedly.

And what's more, i don't think they were even done artfully. i've seen many provocative pieces in my time, but the ones i call and consider art are the ones that were produced with some heart. Some real passion that a creative person like myself will feel when we see the pieces. But no, you just wanted to try your luck with something like this. And sadly, with your relatively successful international track record, you got away with it. The real culprits here are the idiots at the CCP who did not consider the sensitivities of the citizenry in accepting and putting up such a show.

I am of the Catholic faith. But I do not particularly like to pray before statues, touch them with my handerchief, much less kiss their ceramic bacteria-laden feet. But that's me. These sentiments do not mean I have to stand by the statues at the nearest church and stop people from doing the above if they want to, or believe they have to. That's called respect, dude. Religion is a sensitive subject for many because it helps them get direction with their lives. I don't agree with all of them, but i respect them. Respect, dude. As the famous Rico J. Puno would say in his shows, "Respect, please."

Oh well... Let's all move on from this.

'catch you later.

G

P.S. congratulations, dude. You got a lot of coverage. Bravo.

Movie Review: Heh-Ree Pot-Tah (the Finally Final Chap-Tah... Or Rickman Really Rocks)

2011-07-26T10:26:00.000-07:00

We are so in that they're bringing
the Smurfs back because we made
being blue look cool.

In writing and posting about a movie rather belatedly, we may be able to establish if: 1) the movie was memorable enough to leave stuff in my head that i can still write about days after, and; 2) i can still get hits on this patheric blog despite the fact that it's way late, and Potter readers are composed of billions of neo-literati kids who are blogging about the "Deathly Hallows 2" (which is effectively Harry Potter Part 2 of Part 7) endlessly among themselves.

So screw this, but what the heck...

We caught the Harry Potter finale on the very first day of showing, and proceeded to rediscover the magic that is Robinsons Movieworld in Galleria. The magic is that any movie, no matter how big and successful all over the movie-going popcorn-devouring planet will still face short lines (if any), and half-empty cinemas at the Galleria. And add to that the attractive prospect of not having a lot of shops in the mall worth the wifey's time and money, then you got yourself the perfect mall for the penny-pinching on-the-run corporate rat like me.

Now on to Hogwarts...

This movie doesn't pretend to be anything but a wrap-up session for the entire Potter series. Everything that those pre-pubescent Potter-phile aliens costume-playing in black graduation togas and cringe-inducing pseudo-British accents read will happen pretty much happened. And yes, i thought Harry was going to die. Don't care if he did, don't care if he didn't. But i actually walked into the cinema expecting a heroic Harry death scene and a horde of sobbing Potter-geeks blowing their pimply noses at the cinema lobby after the movie.

"No, Harry... i didn't screw
yer mom... But i had a wet dream
about it once, then i went ta
Dumblebore an' he proceeded
to tell me that i will hafta kill ya
in Book 7.

But no, we all got ourselves a happy ending, and the rightful redemption of Alan Rickman. Not Severus Snape. I don't give a rat's ass about Snape. But I've adored Rickman since "Diehard" (the one-man-army movie that spawned a gazillion pseudo-sequels and suddenly made Chuck Norris retro-cool for no reason and connection to the movie other than that he exists.). It was fitting that Rickman comes out the hero for once in his cool, sinister-English-guy career. Hell, terrorism was actually cool when it came with the name "Hans Gruber."

Now can we have Rickman playing a bad guy in an "Iron Man" sequel so Bob Downey can fight cool with cool and they can subsequently freeze and shatter all box office records together in an explosion of infinite cool?

So much cool...

'catch you later.

P.S. While I agree that Emma Watson grew up to be rather fetching, and that my having a daughter makes it so many levels of wrong that i "almost" found myself amused at the fact that the world practically watched her mammaries grow every half-inch for the past decade into a viewable cleavage, I must object to her objectifying and the mediarazzi putting her on a supermodel pedestal.

She is hot, yes. But she is extra hot because we all know she's mind-numbingly rich at this early point in her young life. And she looks all the more prettier, because Rupert Glint grew up ugly and Daniel Radcliffe seems to still haven't decided on whether or not the closet fits.

But i apologize in advance to Rupert Glint, who i've come to gather is a fine gentleman, like most Englishmen in the media. At least with him we're sure which bathroom he goes into.

The Cirque was in Town (My Review of Cirque du Soleil's Varekai)

2011-07-24T05:35:00.000-07:00

So the circus was in town. But not just any circus. This was Vegas staple showstopping Cirque du Soleil's wagon train version, Varekai. But before i could bellow to Aimee to: "FIND ME CHEAP TICKETS AT ONCE!!!" the indomitable Mia Lao informs me that she will generously transfer to me circus tickets gifted to her by some little company called BDO.

But there were only two tickets, and the entire area and the concerned dates had already been blocked off. No way to buy an additional ticket for Marge.

But there was a funky loophole...

"So here's the plan," i said, "we bring Marge, and tell those blowhards that she's only two years old, which should qualify her for free entrance on the condition that she sit on either of our laps." It seemed like a workable plan, until the day of the show when i noticed upon getting home that the wifey hadn't dressed the kid up. Bad sign.

She proceeded to tell me how she really didnt think it was a good idea to put ourselves in the potentially embarrassing situation of having to convince people that Margaret the Soon-to-be-a-Giant was not the above-average sized three-year old she really was. So off we two went to the circus... Or the "Cirque" to be more specific (and pseudo-sophisticated).

And i proceeded to be blown away.

I won't bother to talk about the acts and the eye-candy quality of the sets and costumes since google can do a much better job of that than me. But yes, save for the earnest, but sometimes dragging clown segments, almost every acrobatic act was literally breathtaking. There was no such thing as wasted space on the stage as practically every corner had something interesting to offer to wandering eyes. The live music was excellently haunting and colorful, while the vocalists (especially the male lead) were either beautifully, yet wordlessly eloquent, or i should take up some Algerian lessons to get the so-odd-its-cool gibberish chant-singing a la Sting's "Desert Rose."

The fiery double-swing finale pretty much unhinged my jaw to the ground and made me drag it all the way home. And then and there, i had concluded that i had never found myself so properly entertained by so many suicidal foreigners.

Even the wifey was impressed.

By the time of this posting, the fantastic cirque troupe must be midway through their last and final set on this last night of their Manila tour. And tonight will be the last night that the Luneta cleaning crew will rub off tracks on the floor left behind by jaws like mine.

'catch you later.

a last look at the Grand Tapi-something tent
en route to the van...

P.S. My only regret on that show was the crowd not giving the troupe the proper send off for the evening by way of an extended standing ovation. They totally deserved it. But yes, i definitely stood in applause and respect.

Pointless thoughts from last weekend... (071711)

2011-07-19T08:21:00.000-07:00

Thoughts from last Sunday... posted just now.

It's Sunday, and we've done the basics... Went to church, had lunch with Pops, threw Marge on the Shang's carousel... And while i mindlessly sit in a couch somewhere while the wifey wanders around, and Marge is snoring away in her stroller, i reflect on a few things today...

* * * * * * * *

The priest's homily today was unnecessarily defensive. He was indirectly referring to the recent SUV story/"scandal" regarding the bishops.

Something about nobody being perfect and all... We get it, dude. You're barking up the wrong tree. The guys going to church don't care about the imperfections of the the church. Believe it or not, we understand.

One of my favorite priests, let's call him Father Artie, is probably one of the most imperfect priests in the world. He drinks, he goes to buy-me-a-drinkie bars, and he responds to friendly cajoling with the statement "tao rin naman kami..." News flash, he's a damn good priest who is loved by every congregation who he has served in. And his admitted humanity makes his wisdom no less valid in our eyes.

Another news flash: he's supposedly a qualified annulment lawyer, and he drives a handsome blue pick-up truck that the church issued to him for his use. I sure don't mind.

No apologies asked. None given. None necessary.

* * * * * * * *

A few minutes earlier, sleepy Marge knocked over a full cup of hot chocolate while trying to reach for it. Thankfully, no one was hurt. Except for Margaret's ego, and she was crying in embarrassment.

Why?

Because every other f*cking adult around us was staring at the little sea of chocolate with a four-legged island in the middle as though they had never spilled a goddamn drink all their pathetic lives. It's as though their children have never spilled drinks in public before. WASSAMATTAH, HYPOCRITES? A sleepy little girl deserves "the look" for designing Starbucks' Signature Chocolate Puddle? Go back to your pathetic excuses for lives, losers.

* * * * * * * *

'catch you later.

P.S. have a great week ahead, and do not stare at children who had accidents. Yes, you. i'm talking to you.

Comic Book Review: The Filipino Heroes League, Book One (Better Value than a Two-Piece Chickenjoy Meal, which will cost pretty much the same, i think...)

2011-07-17T08:40:00.000-07:00

After being underwhelmed by Summit’s “Underpass,” and left almost indifferent by the “Philippine Comics Anthology” despite Neil Gaiman’s name on the cover, I found Book One of “Filipino Heroes League” by Paolo Fabregas when I suddenly wandered into Sketchbooks at Greenbelt.

So this “Paolo Fabregas” guy who supposedly wrote and drew it was apparently THE Paolo Fabregas. Brother of hottie Lara, and son of cool actor guy Jaime. But we’re here to talk about the book… (of course, if this was at least 16 years ago, we might be talking about Lara… but blogging hadn’t really been done yet back then… but I digress…)

click me to see me bigger...

I was skeptic, to say the least, but the whole “third world superhero” thing sort of got me. That, and the image of masked men running into action on a pedicab. At least the image on the back cover told me quite clearly that whoever did this book doesn’t take himself too seriously (unlike the people who put together stuff for the two aforementioned books. More on them some other time).

The story follows the adventures of the titular super team, who, at the point of the book’s supposed writing, are little more than a shell of its former glory. They are a typical government agency who are underfunded, undermanned, and somewhat a joke. Naturally, there are plotholes all over the thing, but the good intentions and self-deprecation more than makes up for those. The involvement of the government, politics, and the media make the story very, very Pinoy.

click me...

The characters are quite promising and might have interesting back stories if this series finds itself a willing investor, or even sponsors. The core of the team are: “Kidlat Kid,” the team’s resident speedster and joker. Easily the writer’s favorite. “Flashlight,” the current leader, and the only one of the “old heroes” that remains, is a chain-smoking womanizer. “Invisiboy,” the good-hearted dimwit/stiff, who can predictably enough, turn invisible.

The good: it doesn’t take itself too seriously, and the dialogue isn’t hokey. The English is pretty much free of glaring grammatical errors such as those I found on “Underpass” and the “Anthology.” The characters could use some work, but the personality mix isn’t bad. Oh, and I would have probably gotten more of the “third world” feel if there was more “salitang kanto” peppered into the book. The Philippines is a bilingual country, so I would personally predict that this book could have been more effective if this was also bilingual. Perhaps a bilingual edition is in order for the local kids? Just a suggestion.

Paolo Fabregas could have gotten some help to come up with a more amusing set of powers, but chose to keep it simple enough for the hopefully supportive third-world reader. Good move. The subtle humor is also distinctively Pinoy, but understandable enough for any reader.

The story was amusing enough to keep me reading until I finished the book in a day and a half, which is more than what I can say for other local comics.

The bad: The art wasn’t “bad,” but given the world-renowned talent of Pinoys in the art field, this could have been better. With all due respect to Fabregas, the storytelling was effective, but the faces and body language were inconsistent. My non-professional advice to Fabregas: you have a strong concept, bro. Write it, pencil in some breakdowns, and find someone else to finish up the art.

The book should also have been published in the typical comic book size to give it a better comic book feel. But that’s trivial.

The verdict: if this book gets more support, then it might have legs, and even a real life. With local pulp comic serials virtually gone, there is a void that needs to be filled in the local literary world. Best of all, this book wasn’t trying hard to be smart, clever, preachy, or even artsy. It simply had a concept, and carried it through into an entertaining enough story. Yes, it was far from perfect, but it was actually fun.

At only two hundred bucks, it was worth a try, and honestly wasn’t a waste.

Hell, I’d buy the next chapter right now if it was out. You should, too. But buy this one first.

‘catch you later.

For more information, check out: http://www.filipinoheroesleague.com/
* all images are protected by copyright of the creator and/or publisher (or something like that). just don't mess with them so my ass won't get sued.

Things I would have tweeted while in China...

2011-07-09T18:18:00.000-07:00

All these railings and bannisters
in the Forbidden City are made
purely of marble.
So if you're wondering
where we Chinese lost ours,
you know where to look.

Things I would have tweeted while we were in China last May:

it's amazing how most buildings in Beijing are covered in tiles. So I assume the pervading bathroom-like smell is psychological.
but despite having made most of their city look like a bathroom, why do way too many mainlanders smell like they haven't bathed in days?
sandstorm from the gobi desert. Can't see a single cloud. I think the pollution is deliberately made by the communist government to prevent people from seeing silver linings.
I'm also guessing that the gobi sandstorms caused the mainlanders to evolve chinky eyes.
the tour guide just pointed out the main government building to our left. Looks like a Buddhist temple.
It costs 200k rmb fine for an additional kid due to the one-child policy. Abortion is cheaper and probably more legal.
Walking around Tiananmen square. Hope no one starts a revolt or we get gunned down.
Why hordes are lining up to hang out at place where the people got slaughtered is beyond me.
tiannanmen square
warming up in the van after trekking through a small section of the Great Wall. Damn freezing without a jacket, but the sheer scale is awesome. This is one of those few times that i can honestly say that the postcards totally understated the real thing.
i have officially experienced and therefore confirm that facebook, twitter and youtube are inaccesible in Mainland China. Mark Zuckerberg can now lay claim to having the dictators of 1.6 billion people officially afraid of him.

the fatter guy on the plane

flying out of Beijing. Cant... Move... Arms... Damn... Obese... Guy... At... Left... Of... Plane... Seat... But if the plane crashes, you will save me, because you are soft and large and will weather any impact. But you stink.
finally in Hong Kong again. Can't make snide remarks in Tagalog on ugly and fat people. You'll never know if they're Filipino. Too many Filipinos.

China entry officially over.

Pink Floyd's got nothing on THIS wall.

'catch you later.

Delayed Movie Review: Thor (Why Chris Hemsworth Must Die)

2011-07-08T01:01:00.000-07:00

For the record, i was once ripped. Totally.

Just to get that out of my once-ripped chest.

I have a stinking suspicion that Chris Hemsworth is not a real human being. His uncanny resemblance to a certain Mr.Pitt suggests that he is a clone. Hence, all these drooling women are fools, and the clones must die or expire into a puddle of Australian goo. Chris Hemsworth must die.

I have also started hearing some buzz from the unenlightened that the Hemsworth performance as Thor seems to be at par with that of the great Bob Downey Jr. as Iron Man. That is pure blasphemy. Bob as Iron Man is unparalleled except by the late Chiristopher Reeve as Superman. But Reeve gets handicap points for his spinal cord injury and the fact that he has kicked his bucket. So Bob now remains in his own stratosphere.

Grand sets, nuanced performances, and Sir Anthony Hopkins turn the cosmic/mythic/fish-out-of-water schtick into a story that simply works. Screw realism, this is a superhero movie that was entirely in clear and present danger of turning into "Clash of the Nordic Titans" but pulled it off quite nicely.

The guys at DC can take notes here and finally get their Wonder Woman project out of the shelf and off the fucking ground.

'catch you later.

Happy Birthday to me again... 2011

2011-07-04T08:03:00.000-07:00

Well now, I’m not sure who else among you is out there. But hey, here I am again. I’m not sure for how long, nor for how often, but I’m back.

Just came home from another all-you-can-eat dinner with a bunch of guys who can no longer afford to eat all they can or they get sick, weak, and die. Dinner was on me since I just turned 38 yesterday. Another dinner filled with old friends, old jokes, old stories, a few new reactions to those old stories, and pretty much just sitting there glad to be reminded that there are things in the world that haven’t really changed all that much. Sometimes that’s the biggest thing old friends do anyways. So happy birthday to me. Whoopee.

Seriously. Whoopee. Pardon me for excluding exclamation points here, but I really am happy today.

I take stock of my life and I have absolutely nothing to complain about except being 5 foot 5 inches. And even that is solved by an old pair of Nike Shox, along with looking for shorter people to hang out with.

Life still isn’t perfect, but it really shouldn’t be anyways. You just have to keep staying interested, as well as hoping and working to make things better. You stop doing that, you’re a zombie.

* * * * * * * *

After turning myself in to be dragged around the Medical City like a lab rat for the better part of Friday, celebrity doctor Oyie Balburias hands me the proverbial clean bill of health today. I’d be jumping for joy if my knees weren’t so shot, and I wasn’t at least 20 pounds overweight.

Had my teeth cleaned last Saturday, then a haircut. Spent the rest of the entire weekend drifting through town with the wifey and the kid. Margaret’s starting ballet this week, and the wifey’s just learned to cook up Spanish food. So what me worry? Absolutely nothing.

Whoever you are, welcome back to Broken Record.

‘catch you later.

Another Day in Disneyland 050211

2011-05-04T02:28:00.000-07:00

Drenched in sweat, baking in the sun, lining up to see two giant rodents. Marge and the wifey are "patiently" waiting in benches flanking the giant rat gazebo.

Lots of fellow sweaty Asians in the long line with me.

Lao Hu Chi

The Chinese profess to abhor the West, particularly the Americans. But they sweat it out for almost an hour queuing just to spend a few stupid seconds to have their chinky-eyed pictures taken with one of the most prominent symbols of America's conquest of the global culture.

If us Chinese with roots in the Mainland are really that much better than the Whites, then how come I don't see people lining up for photo ops with a "Lao Hu Chi" mascot?

* we'll be right back after a short music video break (no multitasking on this stupid tablet...)

Malou mercifully hands me an ice-cold bottle of water in a plastic bottle that claims to be biodegradable.

Almost our turn. Dammit. All this for a lousy picture I can photoshop. Hell, I get paid decent money to photoshop shit like this.

Almost at the mice... Almost noon... Almost melting...

Between the crazy humid heat and the crazier ice-your-brains-out air-conditioning in the outlets, Disney Hong Kong will end up giving you a cold and kill you. And then there's the out-of-their-minds food prices, which might make you opt to go hungry. And I sincerely suspect some of the Koreans we've run into are infiltrators from the North who are all about nuking half the planet.

There's war, famine, pestilence and possible death.

So given all that, you can imagine how they might have based Disneyland on the Book of Revelations and run the hell for your pathetic life.

Marge is napping and the wifey is bored, so I fart my way through a ride in Space Mountain. The next riders should beware the Roast Pork Nebula!

Tinkerbell was awfully friendly, but looked like a fag.

My biceps hurt.

Goodbye, Mickey... We're heading back to the hotel.

'catch you later.

Thumbs Up: My 15-Second Run-In with former president Fidel V. Ramos

2011-02-28T04:31:00.000-08:00

Two half-presidents ago (Erap only served half a term, while Gloria was half the size of a regular human being), there was a general named Eddie who became president of the Republic of the Philippines.

I personally thought Eddie was a good president. Like most politicians, there are stories that he got wealthier during his term. But hey, who the hell are they casting the first few stones? And more importantly, have they done more than Eddie? But see, all that's under the bridge and all. And a decade and a half later, what most people will remember more is that during Eddie's term, the Philippines looked and smelled good to the world. There was business aplenty, and where there was dirt, there were pretty rugs to sweep them under. Enough for the magazine spreads, anyways. 'nuff said about that...

And best of all, Eddie is cool.

Cool enough to crack jokes to building-mates back in Exportbank Plaza, cool enough to keep his nose clean, and cool enough to know when enough was enough. Unlike some politicians we know.

Oh, and cool enough to shake my hand and ham up for this phone shot when i ran into him at the Manila Bulletin anniversary party recently.

'catch you later.

Dear Mr. Tarsier Mascot

2011-02-26T00:55:00.000-08:00

Dear Mr. Tarsier,
I would like to apologize for what happened today.
You were brought to Tiong San Harrison today to entertain our customers with funny antics only conceivable for anonymous pranksters hiding behind a giant fiberglass head of a mascot.
In my boredom today, and in the interest of doing something supposedly harmelessly stupid, i dangled P1,000 to an employee to knock on your head four times just to watch you spin around in that giant of yours looking for the culprit. I did not know it would supposedly hurt and that you are already dizzy from the heat in there.
Now I am P1,000 poorer with a giant tarsier pissed at me.
Sorry, dude.
Good thing you're still smiling.
Oh, dammit... that's just the headdress!
Oops...
'catch you later...

Letters to Marge (Chapter 26): Watching you sleep...

2011-02-25T03:18:00.000-08:00

Dear Margaret...

I watched you sleeping... And i imagine you must be dreaming of cupcakes in the clouds, flying fish, and dogs that talk and makes jokes with you.

The yellow bricks on the road before you must be lined with little flowers that bat their eyelashes at you when you walk by. At the very least, because your own eyes are no less beautiful.

How big is the world for you to yet know, so many more colors than the forty eight crayons you doodle with, so much more music beyond the little rhymes we sing together with your mother. So much more life ahead...

Wake up tomorrow to a beautiful sun that may not last forever, but will shine for you and make blue skies and turquoise oceans that wrap the earth while you walk on it.

Do not forget to smile and look for the good in people before thinking ill of them. At least for now, while the innocence has not left you.

Walk through the day knowing that you are loved like the moon is loved by the stars that shine around her. The very stars that watch over you tonight like i do.

Love,

Dad

Happy Valentine's... You're Dead.

2011-02-12T22:38:00.000-08:00

I have often been accused of delusions of grandeur. Usually by my wife, many of my most honest friends, my brothers, and twice more often yet again, my loving and lovely wife.

Today is Sunday, February 13, 2011. A day before valentine’s. It is on this day and this whole stretch of weekend and beyond, that children are conceived for obvious reasons. But it is also on this day that i know of at least two gentlemen who will be laid down on their final resting places.

I do not know them nor do i pretend to. But here’s the connection:

One is an eighty-something man whose wake is constantly populated by an endless string of family members who’ve known and lived with all his ticks and whatnots throughout his long, eight-decade life. His descendants are a series of professionals in various fields, mostly with families of their own and all miss him dearly at a personal level.

The other one is larger-than-life personality who has held very various positions of power in government and the military over the course of almost four decades of service. He also has lots of friends and family at his wake. He also has the media, fellow soldiers, at least two presidents, and probably hundreds of senators, congressmen, and all sorts of officials at his wake.

Both are gone, both leave gaping holes in the lives of who they leave behind.

I am left wondering... at my age, should i still strive to depart like the latter one, who must have sacrificed a great deal to spread his reach as far as he has? Or should i continue to live my life the way i (sort of) quietly do and move on like the first old man? Who incidentally, had a whole twenty more years than the other guy. Those additional twenty years must have been filled with so much laughter, so much color, a sprinkling of heartaches perhaps, to remind one that one is human... so much... life. But to live such that one’s death creates a media fall-out that ripples through all seven thousand islands and beyond... man, that must also be something, right?

How would YOU want to die?

But see, they’re both gone. What they’ve left behind no longer matters to them. Heck, nothing matters to them at this point. Not how many bouquets were brought to their wake, now how many masses were offered in their name, not how many throngs of people march to their wakes, nor how people speak of them. Nothing matters anymore. Right?

But of course the ultimate conceit is even thinking that i have it in my hands to choose how i will be remembered when the time comes.

Or if i will even be remembered at all. Come to think of it, those two dead guys are pretty lucky.

‘catch you later.

Greek-isms... (012711)

2011-01-27T08:13:00.000-08:00

this is a photo of an ass.
a real one. not just someone
who acts like one.

A whole three years before House (a.k.a. House M.D.) went on air and turned Hugh Laurie into a supernova-sized TV star across the pond, I started Maverick Advertising, let my ego fly and spewed out insults and punchlines that built friendships, lost friendships, lost accounts, and sometimes made me wonder if i was getting sued for sexual harassment.

Nine years, one lawsuit (NOT a harassment suit), and over four dozen insulted employees later, i just figured i should blog about it. So here below are the most recent ones, and the ones i think are worth remembering.

Many others have been forgotten... *sigh*

* * * * * * * *

"You're quieter than the lambs, and THEY'RE awfully silent..."

- trying to cheer up my friend and co-worker, Mr. Balingit upon finding him in the conference room pensively working and totally wordless.

"Let me guess... You woke up this morning and couldn't decide which earrings to wear, so you chose to wear them all at once."

- coming in one morning a long time ago and finding Angela Duldulao, then one of Maverick's writers, wearing a VERY elaborate and complex-looking pair of earrings approximately 2 and a half inches tall, at least. And she was only about 2 inches short of 5 feet.

“C’mon, Art… wouldn’t you at least want to TRY and kick my ass, no matter how impossible it seems?” – giving Art Director Art Montojo a pep talk.

“Rose, stop being so defensive. We weren’t talking about you. Big surprise, the universe isn’t about YOU.
It’s about ME.” - to Senior Account Manager Rose Peñalosa during a typical round of office drama.

“That’s what I tell my wife on the fifth day of her period.” - after someone remarked at a client briefing that security systems are like cars, and can get stuck up if not used for a long time.
* * * * * * * *
i do hope to keep these coming.
'catch you later.

Movie Review: The Green Hornet (Worth the Buzz...)

2011-01-22T10:57:00.000-08:00

“I need a sidekick. I will begin to look for a short, Chinese man,” I said.

My wife gave me a blank look and silence in return.

“A short, Chinese man,” I repeated.

Same look. Same silence.

“A SHORTER, Chinese man, then...?”

Same silence, but this time, her eyes rolled upwards.

* * * * * * * *

The above is the aftermath of our movie date that included Seth Rogen’s “The Green Hornet,” last Friday evening. I don’t remember genuinely laughing at a superhero movie like last Friday evening.

Seth Rogen made the Green Hornet cool.

* * * * * * * *

Seth Rogen stars as Britt Reid, a bumbling party-boy scion of a media mogul who was murdered for being a principled newspaperman. He then inherits his father’s media empire, including a short genius Asian/Chinese butler named Kato. Kato built his own cappuccino machine, war vehicles that look like vintage cars, gas guns and more, all the while not caring to run to the patent office to get rich from all that. I guess Kato’s not much of a genius after all. But then again, the Chinese never really cared about intellectual property anyways. So Kato chooses to become the good Asian servant and bow his Asian head down to serve the American man Italian cappuccino and an American breakfast of chopped fruit most likely cut using American branded knives that were manufactured in China.

Of course, it’s easy to assume racist undertones in a movie character conceived back in the Art Deco America of the 1900’s. Tall, rich white guy... short Asian guy slaving for him... Asian guy not getting the sexy white chick... I mean, if Kato was black, Eddie Murphy would have enough racist stand-up material to revive his zombie career. But no, Asians will not do racially-charged stand-up and get a major movie career in the U.S. of A. Deportation is not an option here.

So Reid uses his father’s newspaper to create hype for his newly-minted “Green Hornet” persona to gain street cred and supposedly tear the underworld down from the inside. Except that without his Asian genius sidekick, Reid is nothing more than a spoiled pudgy white brat who can’t do shit to save his American life. Please be reminded that we are talking about movie characters here, not countries per se.

A few entertainingly bumbling fights scenes, gratuitous destruction of property and predictable character epiphanies later, everyone lives happily ever after.

* * * * * * * *

Now, I will exact revenge on the Americans and find myself a Caucasian midget who will be my superhero sidekick, and make a movie out of it. But i will save people money by not showing it in 3D when it has no right, nor need to be, like “The Green Hornet.” We only caught the 3D showing because it was a full half an hour earlier than the 2D one.

But yes, i loved it. Although i honestly don’t see a franchise coming.
‘catch you later.

Back Again... Again...

2011-01-15T18:16:00.000-08:00

Soooooo... miss me, anyone?

i'm back online and blabbering away yet again.

Unfortunately, for the handful of people who enjoy my "Letters to Marge" series, and other posts related to our little family's private lives, you will no longer find it here on "Broken Record."

Marge is going to school soon, and we want her quiet little life as quiet as possible.

But if you're nice, drop me a comment here (or an email, if you know my email address), and i can send a private invitation for you to view it. But for what it's worth, thanks for reading.

oh well...

'catch you later.

Not a Movie Review: Due Date (Dear Bob...)

2010-12-15T02:06:00.000-08:00

Dear Bob,

I just want you to know that i saw “Due Date” a few weeks ago and had a decently enjoyable time. Zach “I’m-capitalizing-on-my-Jack-Black-resemblance” Galifianakis was okay, but he was seriously outclassed by you and your greatness. He had no right to be on the same goddamn screen with you, Bob.

But enough about him. Let’s talk about you. Yes, Bob. You.

Some people say he “outshone” you. The nerve. But that’s okay, Bob. This was YOUR movie, Bob. YOU are “Iron Man,” YOU are “Charlie Chaplin” personified, YOU are Rob Downey, Jr. So it’s perfectly okay if you want to make a stupid road trip movie that has no reason to exist other than to give some work to Zach (a.k.a. “Jack Black Lite”), heaven knows you don’t need the money right now.

In “Due Date,” you played Tony Stark who was a bit settled down and is expecting his first child. Also, in this movie, Tony Stark did not have his armor readily available. Otherwise, he would given Zach a nudge off with a repulsor ray and proceeded to the “Avengers” movie.

I’m waiting for the “Avengers” movie, Bob.

My wife is waiting for the “Avengers” movie. She just doesn’t know it yet. Do you have a young son? Perhaps a little boy? Less than ten years old, perhaps? Someone I might want my daughter to date?

Lemme know, Bob. Lemme know.

‘catch you later.

The Alien Truth About Gloria Macapagal Arroyo

2010-12-08T18:09:00.000-08:00

The headline on the Philippine Daily Inquirer yesterday (December 8, 2010) is another sign towards the validation of the gay relationship between Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne (a.k.a. Superman and Batman), as well as its consummation.

Their love child is GLORIA MACAPAGAL ARROYO.

The headline today shows that Gloria’s fantastic master stroke of installing that guy Corona as chief justice before she leaves Malacañang is evidence of the genius she inherited from Batman, while the rest of the erstwhile presidential term has proven that she has Superman-thick skin all over tiny mole-ridden body with the breast implants. Said master stroke has made her impervious to any attack from the current or any future administration of the Philippine government.

GLORIA MACAPAGAL ARROYO is a super-being carried to term in the Kryptonian womb of Kal-El (as Clark Kent is known in his native planet of Krypton). I have come to this conclusion in observing that since regular Earth males like Bruce Wayne (a.k.a. Batman) have not shown signs of really getting pregnant (testosterone-laced females with facial hair and little-boy biceps do not count). Thus, it MUST be Superman who carried the child. After all, we know nothing about the inner workings of Kryptonian physiques.

The United States Department of Defense, or National Security, or Anti-Koreans, (or whatever it is they come up every other time) can save a lot of money by hiring Gloria Macapagal Arroyo and throwing her at the commies. If her long presidential term is any sign, she is practically guaranteed to cause a LOT of trouble.

And best (or worst) of all, GLORIA MACAPAGAL ARROYO will survive. Guaranteed.

‘catch you later.*

* BUT YOU'LL NEVER CATCH GLORIA!!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHA...!!!!

Movie Review: Megamind (3D Movie, 2D Characters...)

2010-11-24T09:21:00.000-08:00

Saw Megamind. Liked it. It’s a movie of superhero what-ifs. Simple as that. Someone took the basic foundations of the Superman lore and twisted things a bit. So taking the veiled analogues off and we get:

• A Lex Luthor one wants to root for
• An insufferable Superman who finally wants to retire and finds a way to do so
• Lois Lane ending up with Lex Luthor
• Jimmy Olsen finally showing people how he really feels about Supes (and Lois)
• And finally, we get Brainiac as an adorable alien puffer fish.

Funky little tidbit is that the Jimmy Olsen character is called “Hal Stewart.” Most likely a nod to the two alter-egos of Green Lantern, Hal Jordan and John Stewart. Another solid tidbit is that Bob Downey, Jr. was supposed to have signed up to voice Megamind, but the role went to Ferrell due to Bob’s schedule conflicts. Bob was mostly likely busy shooting “Due Date,” which i also saw.

Ooh, and there’s a Donkey Kong tribute in there for geekazoids like yours truly. Comic book geek me loved the movie, by the way.

Main characters voiced by Will Ferrell, Brad Pitt, Ben Stiller and the geeksexy Tina Fey.

‘catch you later.

Pilipinas Kay Ganda... sana.

2010-11-22T09:51:00.000-08:00

Last week saw almost the entire online community in a righteous uproar about Secretary of Tourism Bertie Lim’s relaunch of the country’s international tourism campaign which (as of this writing) was called “Pilipinas Kay Ganda.”

I don’t think i can say anything that hasn’t been said about the campaign’s very shaky beginnings. But on a related note, i did post a comment on Anton Diaz’s popular blog, “Our Awesome Planet.” And just for the heck of it, here’s that post:

“Greetings, Anton!
i think the new tourism campaign does nothing more than act like a poor, watered down sequel to the rather successful "wow philippines" campaign.
i wasnt there at the launch. But offhand, as a patron of local tourism spots, i believe the government should reduce expenses in marketing at the onset and redirect funds in improving facilities and security in already world-renowned tourism spots (too many to mention).
While we have many, many privately-owned resorts, the respective local governments of these provinces should be given more support to manage aspects like waste disposal and management, environmental conservation, heavier sanctions on pollution level violators, and so on.
Tourism campaigns launched by our government seldom say anything new about us. People who hop around our islands (locals included) always share the same sentiments whichever of the 7,000 islands we visit: 'ang ganda, sayang at di inaalagaan...'['so beautiful, such a waste we don't take care of it...'].
The new campaign is another blatant display of the government not putting money where it is really needed.”

Hope someone who can do something about this runs into this little rant.
‘catch you later.

Concert Review: The Gin Blossoms in Manila (My "Real" Review... Pieces of that Night)

2010-11-22T09:43:00.000-08:00

Yes.

Okay, so it wasn’t “yes.” It was more like “YES!!!!!”

The Gin Blossoms were going to make like Santa Claus and coming to town. This town. Manila. And where a fire made me miss the TOTO concert back in 2007 and changed the course of my life entirely, and scheduling conflicts made me miss Chicago and Tears for Fears by making me stuck in another city, this one was NOT getting past me.

To repeat what i told the band during the “Meet & Greet” a couple of days ago at the Robinson’s Galleria: “I’ve been waiting for you guys for seventeen years!” And though it may be arguable that TOTO, Chicago and Tears for Fears have been invading my eardrums for far longer than the Gins, i must state the fact that unlike them, the Gins have never (NEVER) left my regular playlist. MP3 mix cd’s were incomplete without a Gin Blossoms folderful of songs.

* * * * * * * *

Almost an hour and half’s worth of opening acts in the form of local band 6cycle Mind (with a number featuring Cookie Chua), and Aussie band Fahrenheit43 (who the...?!), and the Gins were in!

So, my voice is fucking hoarse from all the cheering, screaming and singing along, and here’s the setlist (in order) of that night’s show:

“Follow You Down” - I was actually expecting this since it made sense to open the show with this song. It’s a big hit off their successful sophomore album, starts the show loud and proud with a lot of familiarity, while letting them save the “bigger” hits for later in the show.

“Don’t Change for Me” – first song from the new album that they played tonight.

“’Til I Hear It From You,” – a good song, but not among my super favourites. But a very popular one nonetheless.

“Found Out About You” – a personal favourite. Take time out to check out the lyrics to this, and be amazed.

“Miss Disarray” – this song is just okay for me. Wouldn’t have been my personal choice for a kick-off single though.

“As Long As It Matters” – another personal favourite since i sand this a lot along with Vergil dela Cruz and his literal band of brothers.

“Lost Horizons” – a relatively obscure song for mainstreamers, but another trademark Gins pieces for fans like me.

“Long Time Gone” – among what i consider “lesser” tunes off their catalogue. Taken from “Major Lodge Victory.” They should have done “Come On Hard” instead of this one, in my humble opinion.

“Go Crybaby” – from the new album.

“Learning the Hard Way” – the lead track on “Major Lodge Victory.”

“Until I Fall Away” – sadly enough, this melodic, suicidal dirge is a wonderful example of what musical magic Robin (Wilson) and Jesse (Valenzuela) can create together that stands toe to toe with the so-called Hopkins-penned Gins classics.

“Dead or Alive on the 405” – one of the catchier tunes on “No Chocolate Cake”

“Allison Road” – one of Robin’s personal best, i believe.

“I’m Ready” – from the new album.

Yep, Robin was pointing at me in this
shot after i called him out like a
weed-high adolescent groupie.

“Pieces of the Night” – introduced by Robin as a “special Gin Blossoms song,” this is considered by many diehard Gins fans as Doug Hopkins’ Gins opus. For one, it isn’t about a girl like most Gins songs are. It’s about Hopkins’ seeming struggle with the pressures of fame, working with a major label, and of course, bring drunk.

I love “Pieces” for its fantastic lyricism, and how bare Hopkins laid his soul in this one. The performance was also a personal highlight since Robin pointed me out in the crowd mid-way through the song. Heh heh...

For better or worse, it isn’t a very popular song. In fact, among the crowds packing the front of the stage that night, only one other guy was singing along to this. And he was shouting out a request for “Whitewash,” so yeah, he was a fan like me. Catching me singing along to “Pieces,” the guy and i gave each other an approving nod and a high five.

Then they suddenly slid down to “Hey Jealousy,” which had the whole house screaming. “Jealousy” is after all, considered their signature song.

“Wave Bye Bye” – many people who have heard “No Chocolate Cake” seem to be in a consensus about liking this song a lot. And yes, the title itself is a dead give-away for a finale song. My personal favourite off NCC.

Encore:

“Goin’ to California”
“Now” of the Plimsouls

“Hands are Tied”

Without losing any love for the Gins, i must state on record that the entire three-song encore was honestly a “what the...?” moment for me. Of course, hearing the Gins play ANY song is a great event for me, but there were so many other songs they could have played: the aforementioned “Whitewash,” “Come On Hard,” “29,” “Mrs. Rita,” or even “Cheatin’.” It’s a damn long list of songs for me... i’d better stop right here.

P.S. I had videos for many of the songs. And yes, the band sounded great. But while i thought i could post them here... i changed my mind after reviewing them and noticing that my singing/shouting along drowned out the band and at times I screamed like a deep-voiced fag in heat.

* * * * * * * *

Robin gamely engaged the audience and did his trademark thing of singing into the cellphones of lucky concert-goers. The band played comfortably together on-stage with Jesse Valenzuela leading the way, while Bill Leen, Scott Johnson and new drummer John Richardson filled the Coliseum with the trademark Gin Blossoms sound.

All in all though, the oddly unsurprising thing tonight was how almost the entire catalogue of the Gins played randomly from any of their albums all flowed seemlessly to one another. Testament to the quality of the "Gin Blossoms sound" people know and secretly love. Never mind if Robin's voice sounded just a little bit thinner and more aged than back in "Major Lodge Victory," it still hadn't lost that yearning melancholy that gave earnest life to the songs that were invariably about being broken and trying to pick one's self back up.

And I suppose that that in no small degree will make the Gins' music immortal. At the end of the day, almost all of the songs they've become known for are love songs that pinch down in that most savage level where people with hearts simply get hurt and bleed. The songs may have been written in late 80's and the 90's, but those songs sing about things that will keep happening again and again, and sound great while doing it.

'catch you later.

Here's that cheesy fanboy band shot
again.

Concert Review: Gin Blossoms in Manila (Music Still Worth Drinking To... My "Short" Concert Review)

2010-11-21T07:40:00.000-08:00

The Gin Blossoms played a solid 20-song setlist for a warmly receptive and cooperative Manila concert crowd at the Araneta Coliseum last November 18, 2010.

Breaking the ice with “Follow You Down,” their 1996 hit off their sophomore album “Congratulations, I’m Sorry,” the Gins barely slowed down through the evening, except for an occasional sip of beer. The band performed their biggest hits and fan-favorites such as “Hey Jealousy,” “Allison Road,” “Found Out About You,” “As Long As It Matters,” interspersed with tunes off their brand new album, “No Chocolate Cake.”

Frontman Robin Wilson still hadn’t lost that earnest, yearning melancholy in his voice and still sang like he meant every word. Though admittedly, his voice seemed to have sounded a little thinner and more aged than back in “Major Lodge Victory.” Robin gamely engaged the audience and did his trademark thing of singing into the cellphones of lucky concert-goers. The band played comfortably together on-stage with Jesse Valenzuela leading the way, while Bill Leen, Scott Johnson and new drummer John Richardson filled the Coliseum with the trademark Gin Blossoms sound.

Me hamming it up with the band
at the meet and greet.

As the Gin Blossoms rocked the entire Araneta Coliseum that night, it was more than a tribute to the ‘90’s as a musical era, but a celebration of simply great music that will transcend genres, trends and probably even generations.

P.S. I am such an unabashed fan, that i went to see the Gins at the Robinsons Galleria the day before the concert for the meet and greet, along with some autograph signing.
The boys were totally cool and seemed genuinely nice even after i may have sounded like an absolute stalker when i said: "I've been waiting seventeen years for you guys!" This was followed by Robin suddenly looking up and smiling, half-stood, then shook my hand while asking: "What's your name?" "Jasper," I said.
"Thank you so much," replied Robin.
My friend (and occasional guest-blogger here at Broken Record) Carlo Balingit said Robin probably asked for my name so he knows what to tell their security detail. My wife thinks so, too.

'catch you later.

Movie Review: The Other Guys (I Got Dumber, But Laughed My Dying Brains Out)

2010-11-20T00:18:00.000-08:00

There’s something about knowing Will Ferrell’s going to be in a movie that makes one want to switch off one’s brain to avoid any further damage.

But one would want to go see it nonetheless.

And having Marky Mark... Oops, Mark WAHLBERG, Samuel L. Jackson and the Rock... oops, I mean, DWAYNE JOHNSON, and Michael Keaton all along for the ride almost makes one just want to come jump into the boys’ party.

“The Other Guys” is set up like another stereotypical mismatched cops buddy movie, and that’s what it unabashedly is. It has no pretentions of becoming anything else other than a mindless attempt at getting you mindless. But it’s obvious that the cast is having fun, and it shines through from Ferrell’s standard-issue self-deprecation, to Wahlberg’s deadpan pseudo-seriousness.

Imagine the writing session on this one: “Boys, screw the plot, and come up with a series of ‘where the fuck did THAT come froms?’”

Yes, i loved it.

‘catch you later.

Movie Review: The Social Network (Revenge of the Nerds: The Gazillions Sequel)

2010-11-15T20:07:00.000-08:00

Okay... so stop me from performing another of the 25 billion most obvious forms of vindication for Mark Zuckerberg’s MONEY... i’m guessing a good chunk of the zillion people who’ve seen the Facebook movie “The Social Network” readily went home, popped their computers open, and began writing about the Facebook movie on... wait for it... FACEBOOK. They proceed to reaffirm why Mark Zuckerberg and company are making a lot of MONEY.

So, in a new millennium version of “Revenge of the Nerds Part 60-something,” the eponymous “nerds” in the movie not only get kicked around in the early part of the movie, then make idiots of the jocks (the twins), and get the girls, but they also make truckloads of MONEY. Of course, a few things here and there are twisted to make a more interesting movie from what is most likely a rather boring story about a nerd who screwed his best friend over and made MONEY. Yes, MONEY.

Entertaining movie, but i won’t take the story as gospel, and neither am i scampering to start my own internet company in the hopes of making MONEY. And i have nothing more entertainingly insulting to say, so i’ll stop right here and go back to working to somehow make a little bit of... money. (nope, not in ALL CAPS.)

‘catch you later.

Delayed Movie Review: EAT PRAY LOVE (PIG-OUT, THINK, FUCK)

2010-11-10T07:56:00.000-08:00

Julia Roberts’ character finds herself in a mid-life crisis, then proceeds to travel across the world “in search of herself.” She proceeds to PIG-OUT on pasta in Italy, MEDITATE her brains to oatmeal in India, and FUCK her brains out with a guy who almost killed her in Indonesia.

A lady who finds herself broke blows off what’s left of her money by travelling around the globe and reminding the movie-going public why the rest of the world sees white people as too indulgent. I mean, flying to Italy for a taste of dolce vita is all good, but is India the only place where one finds God? Does God hate deodorant or something? And just because Indonesia is overpopulated (just like most other Southeast Asian countries), doesn’t necessarily mean people there are hornier. Word of advice for people who want to "find themselves," is for them to look in a mirror.

Not really a REALLY bad movie, save for the occasional heavy-handedness. And the male co-stars at every turn in Roberts’ globe-spanning do a good job of playing off the almost-neurotic character played by Roberts. And so the book’s movie potential really lies in the perfect formula of female introspection, exotic locales, and getting Julia Roberts to play the lead character.

Of course, the ultimate indecisive psychosis of the biographical Elizabeth Gilbert character can really be fixed by another set of three words: PSYCHO ANALYTIC THERAPY

'catch you later.

TV Review: $#! My Dad Says (Shat should stop this $#!)

2010-11-08T17:39:00.000-08:00

For those of you out there who love quality TV (an oxymoron), you may not have stumbled upon this little new show with a Milky Way-sized star in the person of William Shatner. The show's called "$#*! MY DAD SAYS," and it's based on one guy's Twitter posts (and eventually book) of his old man's quotables. http://twitter.com/#!/shitmydadsays

Heard about the show via my built-in Star Trek Radar and immediately went about downloading and watching it since i am a devoted Shatnerite. Man... Somebody bring "Boston Legal" back... please. Or take this show out of censored network television and into uncensored cable where it will truly belong.

My dear friend Scott Kelly from Minnesota mentioned the show to me via a Facebook message, and i replied with this:

"I've seen a couple of episodes, bro... honestly disappointed... i found it a bit sleepy... and sadly, without the profanity of the twitter posts, the lines don't have the same impact.

Shatner may be able to save the universe, my friend... but i don't think he'll save this show.
How did you like it? "

Sorry, Shat. 'Nuff said.
'catch you later.

What’s the big deal about the dying of NU107?

2010-11-06T01:36:00.000-07:00

So, tomorrow will be the last day NU107 hits the airwaves. And i am not affected. Not really. But i am sad. Let me tell you why by way of a story...

Sometime back (waaaaay back), i told myself that i would always like what wasn’t necessarily popular or “cool.” I would define “cool” for myself until it became cool simply because it was there for far too long to not be.

This led to my willingness to expose my sucker-ness for all things mushy. Strongly manifested by what was then called “the Mellow Touch.” It was 94.7 on FM radio. It played old, country music and mushy, corny love songs. Something most “boys” wouldn’t be caught dead listening to. But i didn’t mind. It set me apart, and the music really is nice.

And then there were the old people who tuned in to 104-point-something for old piano music and geriatric stuff... there was “cooler” stuff out in 99.5RT (there still is), RJ’s retro station, the jazz stations, and then there was the rock station NU107. Back when radios had rotary dials for station tuning (with higher-end sets even boasting an extra “fine-tune” knob, it was amusing how colourful and varied the stations one squeeked through were. So many different personalities and voices, both literally and figuratively.

The mid to late 90’s saw the proliferation of jazz/r&b/new age stations. Cool (there’s that word again) music to chill out and have a drink to. There were unapologetically pop stations with a bit of talk-show thrown in like Monster RX93 and the now-legendary circa Little David (a.k.a. Adel Gabot) 103.5 K-Lite. Most others have reformatted, but through all that, there was NU107. And though i never listened to it, i knew it was there, and it stood as somewhat physical proof of the existence of people who were not like me, but somehow were in that they refused to change.

But NU107 signs off tomorrow. So now what?

I wish i could say “i don’t know,” because that would mean that radio would still surprise me and through the sea of now-generic MOR music, there was still going to be a fun little monkey-wrench playing something crazy and different at the end of dial. (oh, i forget... there are no more dials) But no, i won’t pretentiously miss NU107 like its honest-to-goodness fanatics just to seem “cool” (dammit, there’s that word AGAIN!). Hell, i don’t tune into 107. But i wish i could say i couldn’t care less.

Thing is, i hate conformity. Now, almost everything on radio is going to sound like my old iPod. And one last thing... One strong memory i have of NU107 was when i hitched with my best friend over 15 years ago, and heard my first strains of Cake’s version of “I Will Survive,” which i promptly turned into the party anthem of DQA (Duane Quintal Associates) back in 1995. So yeah, thanks for that one song at least, NU.

‘catch you later.

Waiting for a serve...

2010-10-31T08:02:00.000-07:00

my currently favorite drink,
Russian Standard Vodka

I drink just enough to get me drowsy. Not enough to make me stupid, or to make my heart palpitate like it did the last time.

Just enough. Not much.

So here we were. It seemed like a long enough time to let half the world pass us by. But no. No time is ever enough until someone lets go. But when forgiveness is the only option left, everything becomes one-sided. Right now, it feels sort of like playing ping pong (i would have said tennis, but i never played tennis, so it might seem too pretentious), and the difference is that i’m left on the other side just waiting for the serve.

And when i’m lucky enough for the serve to come, i lose because the wind blew the ball. Then i wait for the serve again.

So here i am swinging my racket at the air...

‘catch you later.

Very rare reflective moment...

2010-10-30T07:49:00.000-07:00

There is a razor-thin line between being perceived as kind beyond reproach, and being considered gullible to the point of stupid. Story of my life.

But no more. At least not as often as before, anyways.

I’ve also learned to admit to myself that i’m a fucking coward. There, i’ve said it. For someone who’s supposed superpower is his mouth, i haven’t been very good at opening it to tell people if i’m not happy. I’m a coward for engraving on my brain that because i have admittedly been living a rather blessed life, i have a supposed responsibility to share my supposed blessings through kindness and generosity.

But the blanket’s been pulled, so has the pillow, and i’m sniffing a lot of coffee in the air. Good morning, me. Yeah.

Responsibility, my ass.

At this point in my life, I keep wondering to myself why on earth human beings seem to consider it their God-given duty to exploit the kindness of the ones who give it. As the world gets older, optimism even among our youth seems to dissipate that much more quickly. And optimists like me have been branded by too many as little more than quixotic fools.

The past year saw yours truly going unnaturally nuclear on a handful of situations. Totally uncharacteristic of the “me” i’ve known for the past two and a half decades, but not too unlike the much younger me, nor the father side’s supposed genetic temper.

As i lose my temper more and more often in recent memory, my self-written reputation for being jolly, excitable, but occasionally humorously nonchalant is slowly becoming little more than a legend i cultivate in my sad, fertile imagination. The character i want Jasper Lao Golangco to be. I have even fabricated enough about my own persona by throwing in the word “Greek” as part of my name on non-official situations.

Which begs the question: Who’s the “real” me?

‘catch you later.

Maverick Musings... (After Halloween)

2010-10-25T12:01:00.000-07:00

So even before all the Halloween squashes and pumpkins decompose enough to be considered compost, i sit here thinking of things i’ve learned and gathered over the course of a rather eventful 2010 regarding Maverick...

Maverick is totally gaining steam. Whoopee. Seriously. You know how big companies and bigger egos often like being addressed as acronyms? Well, this year saw Maverick working with at least a couple of HUGE acronyms. There are at least two easily recognizable three-letter acronyms that spell “B.I.G.” who got the “Maverick Experience.” One is BDO, and the other is LBC. More to come. And hopefully, even more to come back.

In business, staying alive long enough to get your stride back is priceless. But you need to love your business and what you do to make you want to keep it alive even in zombie mode.

So yes, i'm getting that off my chest: Maverick was a zombie for quite some time. But no more. We're alive and kicking ass like we haven't done in a long time.

'nuff said.

'catch you later.

Sunday (102410):

2010-10-24T14:04:00.000-07:00

October 24, 2010 – i feel tired but excited, bored and worn out but eager, lonely but almost peaceful, content but not quite, passably happy but not really “completely” happy. But definitely can’t complain.

Thursday before the break of dawn,
at a cold, lonely bus terminal

All in a day’s work of being alive, isn’t it?

In and out of sleep since six in the a.m. But for a good reason i can’t discuss out here. And no, it sadly isn't about sex. Slightly groggy, but alert at the counter (sort of). Riding back to the big city tonight. Short stint in the store will have consequences, i think. Or maybe not... but a comfortable level of reasonable affluence always has a price. Especially when it’s connected to a family business. But i’m looking ahead, without forgetting to look back.

Maverick will get more Maverick.

That can be interpreted in at least three different ways. It can mean that i, the Maverick (as many refer to me), will get more time with Maverick the office. It can also mean that Maverick the office will get more of me sooner than usual. And it can also mean that i, the supposed Maverick will get more “maverick.” But wait, the above sentence/paragraph does not have the second “maverick” capitalized. So the third interpretation does not apply.

little corner of the living room Malou
and i use as our internet cafe. Empty.

And yes, i am bored.

First time in a year i’m up here without the wifey, Marge and the doggies. Feels a bit colder. Due to both the weather, as well as the lack of warm bodies (human or canine) running amok in the empty living room. And cold inside, too, you know...?

Sad, but not really. Am waiting for a few things i need to bring to the country club. Lunch time soon. Not excited, but not objecting. Just... nothing.

‘catch you later.

cold, foggy morning up in the mountains

20 Days Late...

2010-10-20T01:00:00.000-07:00

WARNING: THIS ENTRY IS 20 DAYS LATE.

So while the wifey isn't looking, i spin the giant tent-card style standee of "Due Date" in the cinema lobby of Robinson's Galleria to make sure the side with Robert Downey, Jr.'s face gets the most immediate exposure.

Bob, i want you to know i did it for you.

* * * * * * * *

I just found out yesterday that the Facebook account of my current favorite comic book store, Comic Odyssey is the work, not of one of the owners/shareholders, but by a totally devoted fan/loyal customer by the name of Norby Ela.

Actually, i know the name since i "liked" it on FB, which means i get updates and stuff. All of which Mr. Ela apparently just religiously culls out of the Comic Odyssey website.

Man... Totally cool.

According to Miss Ning, who i believe is among the proprietors of Comic Odyssey, Filemon Barbasa the eponymous "FilBar's" himself endorsed the shop to some of his loyal customers when he started to focus more on magazines than comics.

Now how much totally cooler is THAT?

* * * * * * * *

Now following Booster Gold, Justice League Generation Lost, Doom Patrol, X-Factor collected edition hardcovers, aaaaaaand i just picked the first issue of an all-new Doctor Solar, Man of the Atom by... Wait for it... JIM FUCKING SHOOTER!!! The man is back! Yeah...

And yes, that IS cooler...

* * * * * * * *

Caught Julia Roberts in EAT, PRAY, LOVE. More on that soon...

'catch you later.

Sunday (101710)

2010-10-18T00:10:00.000-07:00

There's something about Sunday lunches with my father that can fill me with some Imeldific Marcostalgia.

Since my old man still lives in the old compound in San Miguel, near Malacanang, we usually end up choosing eating places within the perimeter of Downtown Manila. Today, as suggested by Pops, we went to the Gloria Maris in the CCP Complex. There was supposedly a promo-price on sea mantis and clams. We had exactly those plus noodles.

Margaret happily cam-ho's for me while Malou and Pops go in ahead to order.

Today's lunch conversation was highlighted by Pops telling us that the restaurant we were in used to be a seafood restaurant that was quite the pride of Imelda Marcos. It supposedly offered up to twenty mouth-watering ways to cook crabs. A look around the fine wood-based interiors certainly suggests that the Imeldific one had her say and her way in putting the place together. Too bad, i was too embarrassed and hungry to take photographs. On the way to driving Pops back home, a spin around the CCP Complex, followed by a drive down the once-picturesque Roxas Boulevard, and i was awashed with a wave of nostalgia for simpler times as a child growing up in Manila, and the memory that Manila used to be a first-class city, albeit under a dictatorship.

It's almost deliciously ironic for Imelda that when the Marcoses were scurried out of Malacanang, new Manila postcards probably stopped being produced. At least the good ones.

* * * * * * * *

And while i was getting a haircut from Jojo at Gruppo later that afternoon, there was a really fat dike with a chubby girlfriend in the chair next to mine who was leafing through an iPad while being pampered.

Before seeing her/him, i was half-considering to whip out my mega-sized laptop to write this piece. Now all of a sudden, the thought of typing or surfing on a notebook besides Her Dike-ness on an iPad seems embarrassingly prehistoric.

So i tap away on my humble, non-flashy Nokia e71 for this. Except for the iPod, I still do not see myself submitting to Steve Jobs and his array of technological Apples that i still consider lemons.

'catch you later.

TV Review: No Ordinary Family (Ordinary Story, Ordinary Show...)

2010-09-21T09:00:00.000-07:00

I’m not a TV addict. In fact, i may have unknowingly spent days without turning the tube on. (oops, the term “tube” is soooooo 80’s! People are on LCD’s or LED’s now)

But there are a handful of shows one keeps track of and watches via his/her computer. This week, i thought i’d give a new TV series a try. The show was called “No Ordinary Family,” and in a nutshell, i suppose one can call it sort of a live-action version of “The Incredibles,” which was pretty much a 3D animation reimagining of “The Fantastic Four.”

chiklis is one cool sonuva-pitch

The show stars Michael Chiklis (of “The Shield”), Julie Benz (of “Dexter,” that i haven’t seen, but heard it's really cool), and a couple of other kids who are supposedly common faces on TV, if one bothers to notice these things or doesn’t have a job. They play a family who go on a stupid propeller plane vacation, which crashes into a river that gives them sooooper-powerz! How fucking original...

fast cars, faster woman...

The dysfunctional family’s growing into their powers makes them supposedly closer to one another. As Chiklis turns into a non-rocky version of the Fantastic Four’s “Thing,” Benz turns into a female flash, the daughter turns into a telepath with sex issues, and the retarded son turns into another retard not very different from Russell Crowe’s character in “A Beautiful Mind.”

she doesn't need to read his mind

to know he wants to get laid.

After fairly recent events that rocked my life, family is something precious to me. But sometimes it gets rubbed in my face a little too often in the pilot. I almost thought the writers were Swiss since the show had too much cheese.

i am now a SMART retard !

Effects are nice, but in this day and age, they’re nothing new. (I remember watching “Mutant X” just to see the effects and watch the pretty girls. “Heroes” was chock-full of special effects, but that show’s ultimate super power was making all the fans’ good will disappear so fast.) At least the family members look like they’re having fun with their newfound powers (for the most part), so it doesn't feel heavy-handed at all. I mean, i used to be very proud of the super power to wiggle my left ear independently from my forehead. I wasn’t bitching about being a freak.

If i sound unimpressed, it’s because i am. But i am not totally unhappy about it. In fact, the way it’s been set-up, the show has the potential to only get better. Let’s hope it does. I’m dying to fill that comic-book TV show void left by “Heroes.”

I will keep watching either until “No Ordinary Family” gets cancelled, or at least until they horribly screw it up by throwing in a time traveller, a precognizant painter, or a power mimic.

‘catch you later.

Movie Review: Despicable Me (The title was a dead give-away...)

2010-09-10T10:55:00.000-07:00

Ran to the mall with the wife to catch the night’s screening of “Despicable Me” last Wednesday, after settling Marge at the house right after coming back down from the Boon Docks...

“Despicable Me,” stars the perfectly capable Steve Carrell as Dr Gru, a supervillain in need of a major caper, a shrink ray that’s made in China (most likely), and a bank loan from a place claiming to formerly be the Lehman Brothers. Dr. Gru, who employs one human inventor and a horde of yellow critters (referred to as “minions”) who look like Mike Wazowski’s dumber cousins, adopts orphans to help him pull a caper and end up getting his supervillain heart all gooey and totally melted by the adorable, one-dimensional 3D animated children.

And yes folks, save for a few obligatory kinks, that up there really is practically the entire plot...

We were amused, entertained, and humoured. But it didn’t break any new ground. And though it may have been done in 3D animation, i must say that i found Carrell much more animated back in “Date Night.”

And while i may not necessary see myself stumbling upon myself running to a cineplex to the sequel, i DO see myself buying a few of those cute yellow minions for me and Marge.

...and no, the wife will not want one. But yes, she did like the movie.

‘catch you later.

P.S. Am currently in Plantation Bay in Cebu. Here to attend the wedding of a friend in Marco Polo on Sunday. Body feels stiff and tired after Marge begged for repeated runs on one of the pool slides.
It's 2-fucking-AM and I'm sleepy, but cannot sleep.
There's a breakfast buffet that isn't included in the loser-ish deal the wife booked with the travel agency.
Not sure i'll be awake in time for it.
Am debating with myself whether or not to believe the book article that's brainwashing me to blow almost a couple of G's for a supposedly "addictive" massage tomorrow...

Musical "What-Ifs"

2010-09-06T01:47:00.000-07:00

The universe is filled with “what-ifs.” Here are a few personal “what-ifs” on one of my personal favourite topics, pop music.

What if...

John Lennon & Yoko Ono

1. ...John Lennon wasn’t shot to death last 1980?

- He would have been a major presence of angst on Twitter. Ashton Kutcher would be eating his dust.

- He would probably be laughing at the many scandals of the Catholic Church.

- We would be subjected to dozens more “artsy” nude pictures of him and a wrinkly Yoko Ono.

- I will still be wearing circular-framed eye-glasses, and it will still be cool.

Mike "Bassman" McCary

2. ...Mike McCary rejoined Boyz II Men for the 20th Anniversary?

- The Boyz will still do live acapella numbers with a real bass singer, and not some overdubbed vocals.

- Big-voiced horny-dog monologues in the middle of songs will still rule over high-pitched pseudo-ghetto white boy whining.
- I will have more reason to boast that i was a bass singer in a choir back in college, and not get those blank “okay... okay...” looks from people when i say that.

Richard Page

3. ...Richard Page took on the TOTO gig?

- “Broken Wings” would have an edgier arrangement that would have made it more timeless and would still be on radio today, if only for Luke’s guitar.

- With all due respect to Luke, “I’ll be Over You” would have rocked all the more with Rich on vocals.

- The record label wouldn’t have tried shoehorning the bastard child of one of the Milli Vanilli guys and Jacko as their frontman (a.k.a. Jean Michel Byron).

Peter Cetera

4. ...Peter Cetera never left Chicago?

- We wouldn’t have to endure “Glory of Love” repeatedly for months on the radio back in 1986 since the other guys wouldn’t let him sing and play that mushy drivel.

- Peter may have balanced out the other guys and prevented the firing of Bill Champlin via email.

- Not firing Bill Champlin via email would’ve also meant Lou Pardini didn’t have to reduce himself and his awesome talents into a spare tire.

5. ...Andy Gibb didn’t die last 1988?

Andy Gibb

- The Bee Gees would be a quartet and still be making records right now since Andy might have brought Maurice to a better doctor what with Andy being a druggie and known more doctors.

- Disco would have been more drugged out since Andy will bring his drugged out fans into the Bee Gees audience.

- They would have a career resurgence in the nineties, and i would be so envious of their ridiculously exposed chest hair that i will find myself desperately shaving my sparsely-haired Asian chest and praying for a thicker regrowth.

6. ...Doug Hopkins wasn’t fired from the Gin Blossoms?

Doug Hopkins

- He may not have committed suicide, and fans like me would still be treated to melodic, depressing, alcohol-laced dirges with some of the smartest lyrics that ever got sung with electric guitars.

- I MIGHT consider branding gin as my poison of choice over vodka... but, probably not.

- They would still be soooo huge that they wouldn’t be playing in the Philippines this coming November, and fans like me wouldn’t have anything musically big to drool about.

7. ...what if i stopped this shit and went back to work...

‘catch you later.

Nothing: 090110

2010-08-31T10:53:00.000-07:00

The title of this post says it all this is nothing if nothing means being half-wasted on a couple of things one usually enjoys on stoner weekends past tense enjoyed way way waaaaaaaaaaay back in college when our biggest concern was making sure we had that extra P50 to put in a few drops of gas just enough to get home and back out to school but i digress hey i copied that from one of all-time favorite writer mister peeeeeeeeeeeeter david cheers pete but hey life goes on, you stand where you do and choose to not bend your knees and submit yourself to fate which is usually predicted by some crazy-ass statistics put together by a bunch of nerds who are desperately having trouble looking for a fucking social life that they reduce mankind to a series of numbers with probabilities i have a little appointment tomorrow and i really need to conk out i find myself wondering if i should wake her up so she can see me like this but no maybe not catch you later

Movie Review: Mamarazzi (Funny, but wrong on so many levels...)

2010-08-30T00:32:00.000-07:00

After a mind-blowing pop-corn session with a downloaded version of “Wanted,” the wife and i decided to skip “Salt,” Angelina Jolie’s latest superspy vehicle. And seeing as how local cinema needs a boost, we decided to see the funny Eugene Domingo’s “Mamarazzi.”

And man... some things never change...

The title seemed immediately creative, but seemed to have very little to do with the story. You can find the plot (sans spoilers) here. Anyways, i “learned” the following from this movie:

1. Andi Eigenmann is such a huge star (not) that they had to go through the lengths of duplicating her for no reason that can help the story other than to let director Joel Lamangan play with the effect.

2. Eugene Domingo is a really good actress and is genuinely funny, but she really needs a better supporting cast, which John “Sweet” Lapuz provides, but everyone else doesn’t.

3. Diether Ocampo’s character needs to have his eyes checked. If i looked half of Diether Ocampo and i suddenly find myself a widower, i will not look for Eugene Domingo. His character is thinner than the paper they use to wrap candies in Japan. He didn’t copulate with Eugene Domingo’s character (spoiler!), so how can he (and Eugene) even walk into the scenes with a straight face. Oh, right... it’s for a manufactured plot twist. Geez.

4. Carla Abellana is really cute. I think GMA just screwed up in casting Geoff Eigenmann opposite her in “Rosalinda.” But if she bides her time, she will be a much bigger star. Funny how she isn't as tall as i thought she was from the "Rosalinda" posters.

5. It’s okay for a desperate woman to look for a one-night stand to get pregnant (are we seriously teaching/showing this to our children?), as long as she can feed, clothe, and educate her upcoming children. We have a 2-year old daughter, and we are afraid that our once-conservative people is now championing something like this.

6. Drag queens must be encouraged. Now this is an odd one for me. I have a handful of gay friends and a multitude of gay acquaintances who are quite respectable and do their craft well, whatever craft it may be. But i’ve always been of the mind that gay people really ought to come out of their respective little closets, but i wish they would stop thinking they are female because they are not. Gay people are men/boys who prefer to be intimate with other men, but they are not female. They will never be female. Drag is not the way, dudes.

7. If you have a star in the caliber of Eugene Domingo supported by someone as talented as John Lapuz, everyone else is a cardboard standee meant to meaninglessly crowd the screen.

8. Regal films will never outgrow the song and dance number somewhere through every movie.

9. It wasn’t totally bad, but it could have been better given the talent it had.

*Yawn...*

‘catch you later...

Concert Review: Boyz II Men, Aug.13, 2010 (Nowhere near the End of the Road for these Boyz)

2010-08-20T23:16:00.000-07:00

Lower box tickets courtesy of the Manila Bulletin. Sweet...

August 13, 2010, Araneta Coliseum - Passage (the band) was a surprise front act. In that i was surprised they were still around... Honestly not sure how many of those guys were part of the original Passage line-up. But who cared...? They helped kill time, their bass player did a cool rendition of Prince’s (or the Artist Formerly Known as Somebody Else Everytime) version of “Betcha by Golly Wow”, and somehow proved to the waiting Boyz that no one had secret bushels of rotten tomatoes hidden away somewhere.

* * * * * * * *

So out came Boyz II Men, specifically Nathan Morris, Shawn Stockman, and Wanya Morris. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, no Mike McCary.

They came in, had a brief introduction, and broke straight into “Motownphilly,” arguably their most enduring up-tempo piece to kick off the show. And somewhere through the Boyz’s frantic Motown-style dancing, the veteran concert-goer in me was looking for more than missing bass singer Mike McCary. Mike, who was promised to us from their last concert, apparently was not able to work out a deal with the rest of the Boyz. See here.

so, uh... where's the band...?

So i was looking for a band. You know, the guys behind the Boyz playing guitars, drums, keyboards... instruments, man... never mind that they didn’t have back-up singers. They were Boyz II Men, dammit... any two of these guys put together can beat the sound of a 20-head choir. But it was kind of weird, and almost sort of sad to find that the Boyz were singing to pre-recorded backing tracks, complete with harmony overdubs.

But they were still Boyz II Men... and for what it’s worth, i believe Boyz II Men are among the very few musical acts that can pull off something like this in a venue as big as the Araneta.

Set list for the concert was as follows (in order):

• Motownphilly
• On Bended Knee
• Please Don’t Go Away (the first track on their eponymous debut album, before they shoehorned Babyface’s “End of the Road” that sent the record skyrocketing through the charts)

• 4 Seasons of Loneliness (see unprofessionally shot

video using a camera phone below)

if you can't see the video, and really have the time to kill... here's a youtube link

• Amazed (originally by country band Lonestar)

• Open Arms

• Water Runs Dry

• The Colors of Love

• I’ll Make Love to You

• Song for Mama

• End of the Road

• Iris (yes, THAT Iris... by the Goo Goo Dolls)

• Back for Good (by that OTHER boy band, Take That, now a man band more famous for launching the career and ego of Robbie Williams)

• Motownphilly encore (geez, they could’ve ended the concert with any other song from their extensive catalogue... like maybe “Thank You” from the “II” album, or even the funky “Beautiful Women” from “Evolution.”)

Wanya still lets it rip like no one’s business. Sounds like he has fully healed from the polyps situation a whiles back. Nate croons in that husky baritone better than ever. Shawn... hmm... now here’s something to talk about... Shawn’s personal high point for me was the “Mr. Holland’s Opus” soundtrack single “Visions of a Sunset,” which he wrote and sang. And taking the schmaltzy hallmark lyrics out of the way, “Visions” was a melodic work of art, and Shawn’s vocals were a falsetto masterclass. And while many, many Boyz songs benefitted from Mr. Stockman’s brand of smooth, sometimes his singing lately (both on tonight’s live show, as well as their records) is starting to sound lazy. Almost as though he has become too confident at the ease with which he hits those soaring notes that the only thing missing is a mug of beer and a dare.

Most musical acts have unique twists to their shows that sort of become identified with them (e.g. Jim Chappell invites a member of the audience to clink three notes on his piano, which he will improvise into a song on the spot, Robin Wilson (of the Gin Blossoms) sings into the cellphones of lucky audience members, Kenny G plays through the crowds like a pied piper, and even does an “unplugged” version of a song with purely acoustic instruments, etc.). It would be nice if the Boyz can include at least one purely acapella number in their set list, with or without Mike.

You listening, Boyz? This here is a bona fide fan right here, and this fan wants to hear live acapella... been at your first concert here, gifted my brother with tickets to your second, and caught your last one here. You have my guarantee that the wife and i will be at the next one, and the next one, and the next one.

* * * * * * * *

After twisting the wifey’s arm to go to these concerts with me, she is forming the wonderful habit of being pleasantly surprised at who sang what, and seems to have reduced the frequency of frowning whenever i tell i’m dragging her lovely ass into another concert.

One thing though, she did comment that the concert somehow felt like a big karaoke session with Boyz II Men, but then simply added that the Boyz were really, really good... “especially the short and fat guy...” and oddly enough, she liked them better now than when we first saw them many years ago in the open field concert held at the Fort, which was a terribly, terribly managed event.

Got me the latest serving of remakes by the Boyz, the “Love” album, at the coliseum lobby. CD review coming soon.

‘catch you later.

Movie Review: The Expendables (Everything's expendable... even the plot)

2010-08-16T02:27:00.000-07:00

It was a movie that made me feel so “man” for seeing it, but so “un-man” for being a teeny weeny Asian imagining myself in a losing brawl with Dolph Lungdren.

Considering the physical shape the guys in the movie were in, I was almost tempted to believe much of the movie was CGI... i mean, many of their biceps were gigantic enough to be considered separate cast members.

Of course, i didn’t go there looking for a plot, and the wifey was resigned to the fact that the flick was going to be just another adrenaline ride, and just a wee bit more hearing damage.

Jason Statham totally owned the movie, Sly Stallone was just really having fun with it (even bringing in his Planet Hollywood buddies, Bruce Willis and Ah-nuld the Governator for cameos that did nothing for the story. Waitaminit... there was no story to begin with anyways... but i digress...), Mickey Rourke mistakenly thought he was expected to do some serious acting, Jet Li’s script was probably written by Russell Peters, or some other racist a-hole, and everyone else probably did acting workshops in the gym with dumbbells. Operative word being “dumb.”

But yes, i totally enjoyed the ride, and i’d come back for a sequel. Oh, and so should Van Damme.

‘catch you later.

whoa, kiddo...

2010-08-13T10:33:00.000-07:00

Someone managed to piss me off this past week.
A relatively minor pissing off, but a pissing off i was not expecting from someone who seemed to have a nice "good guy" aura about him.
But from lines like "eh, sabi yan ng president natin eh... heh heh... i guess gawin natin...," i knew his spine was about as sturdy as a breadstick... At least at that time, anyway. I don't know him much right now, but he seems like a hardworking guy who knows how to play his cards. except with me, i guess.
I mean, if our president has creative input on something i've done for the chapter, i would have preferred he tell me himself. But since you're the project chairman, i can somehow appreciate that ole' prez will delegate the menial task of relaying menial revisions to the menial member doing the menial fucking art chores for the project.
But man... have the spine to tell me if you fucking agree with the prez's feedback and stop playing messenger, dammit... you're the goddamn chairman... i took on the project from you knowing i was going to take orders from your sorry ass, then at least give me the goddamn order.
But here's the "piss-point"... be fucking reasonable about your expectations on the fucking order you do end up giving me and my sorry graphic designing ass...
You call me up in the middle of the day, telling me you need to have the newspaper ads with you before noon of the next day. You said you were going to email me the sponsor logos soon.
12 fucking midnight is not "soon," loser.
When you email someone what he needs to finish your project at 12 fucking midnight, you do NOT ask if it's possible to get the shit before noon, dammit. Not if I have a fucking day job. Hell, i have TWO fucking day jobs...
You may ask nicely, but you do not ask reasonably.
Learn, kiddo...

'catch you later.

Fogged out...

2010-08-08T01:46:00.000-07:00

Before i get around to my next “Letter to Marge,” my long-forgotten “Letters to Prez Glow,” my long overdue CD reviews of Side A’s latest effort sans songwriting treasure-chest Joey Benin, Sade’s latest lazy-smooth-cool offering, and Gino Padilla’s ultima-cool “Hands of Time” CD that he generously sent my way (damn good music in there, especially the lead single “Keeping the Memories Alive”) or many other pointless posts, i make a futile shout out to the cyber-ether that i am getting my brains fogged out in my extended stay in Baguio City...

The wife calls it burn out. But i’m not exactly tired. Fogged out is more like it. So fogged out that while riding an escalator up to take the roofdeck shots you see here, i found myself realizing that my face was dangerously close to a point-blank fart shot from the native right in front of me...

And i'm so fogged out that i discovered it was possible to run out of things to google for...

There’s always something to do around here work-wise, and it always feels rewarding to be able to finally pitch in on the family businesses, but the 12-hour shifts and the running out of open restaurants at 9-something in the PM are total bummers.

But the house here is really nice, the garden’s nice (but no time to enjoy it), and the weather makes everything picturesque. And with the city being the tiny little thing that it is, at least Marge and the wife can drop in from time to time. And the wife will try to console my Maverick itch by giving me an imaginary (but not too imaginary) countdown to when we drive back and i find myself posturing in the office like Denny Crane, insulting my team like Gregory House, and only recently dreaming that i can be as suave and talented as Don Draper.

I miss bookstores. I miss Comic Odyssey. I miss cinemas. I miss Maverick. Good thing i’m going back soon for another spell.

This post (like all other posts) is pointless and will not change the world in any way. Thank you for reading this far. By now, i know who you are, but you guys do not know who i really am. But that’s being pseudo-highbrow figurative, dudes...

(photo at right is my daily view for about 8-10 hours on almost every God-given day, including weekends, but with much more people than the shot here since this was shot after hours, and yours truly was sooo bored waiting for the cashiers to turn in their stuff...)

P.S. Happy Birthday, Mia!

‘catch you later...

Movie Review: Inception (All in my head...)

2010-08-01T01:54:00.000-07:00

Saw inception last week. Actually saw the first 45 minutes a whole week before that. But we called home and found out that Marge was hitting 38-point-something on the thermo, so we dropped the movie and headed home.

Ho-hum...

Here’s the synopsis that i don’t care to repeat: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inception_(film)

On second viewing, the first part of Inception was easier to absorb and sort of made sense on a mechanical level. The plot trigger though, where Ken Watanabe commissions Leo DiCaprio’s “Dream Team” (pun intended) to plant an idea into the head of Cillian Murphy’s Robert Fischer to avoid a supposed energy monopoly is paper thin.

The monkeywrench on the plot being the unpredictable appearances of the gorgeous Marion Cotilliard throw off Leo’s supposed leadership of his little crew is amusing and ultimately heart-wrenching. But again, someone like Ken Watanabe’s character who was supposedly powerful enough to get Leo through immigration with just one phone call probably didn’t need to have some over-slept dream mercenaries deal with a weakling like Robert Fischer.

And where’s Freddy Krueger in all this?

After Ellen Page’s visually spectacular initiation into the dream world, i was expecting a lot more eye candy, but didn’t get it. Still, the film was engaging and DiCaprio has proven himself yet again as a good lead. Is it just me, or is Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who plays his sidekick Arthur, an absolute dead ringer for the recently-departed Heath Ledger?

And somewhere in the halls of Malacañang, Pres. Noynoy is thinking of calling up Leo DiCaprio to try and get into Gloria Arroyo's brain... Leo and his ragtag crew will then run into sick scenes of Gloria having dwarf sex with her rumored bigotilyo baby Nani Perez, while Miguel Arroyo looks on...

Box office conquests aside, with a more convincing plot device, Inception has the potential for something much greater than what it ultimately did storywise. For better or worse, i hope Chris Nolan does a sequel... with Freddy Krueger.

‘catch you later...

Concert Review: OPM Through the Years (Lots of Old Hits, a Few Honest Misses...)

2010-07-20T09:06:00.000-07:00

The concert on July 17, 2010 was dubbed "OPM Through the Years," and it featured a relatively impressive line-up of local talents who have had their share of radio hits or have been on stage long enough to seem to be able to assure a good show.

My compliments to Eloisa for getting good seats through Ticketnet, and off to SMX went the wifey and i... Concert's over, wifey and i had gone home, and here's my skinny on the performers for the night:

Gino Padilla - after an enjoyable album of remakes (see review here), Gino Padilla was actually the performer I wanted to get the most of from this concert. And with Joey Albert flying in for the show, I was hoping for a duet of Joey’s classic “A Million Miles,” which I unfortunately didn’t get.

Gino’s voice is still in fine form… He also managed to find room in the crowded repertoire to belt out three of his signature songs… wasted a lot of talent and stage time doing “Mr. Suave” and another novelty song. Will hopefully catch another of Gino’s performances where he breathes life into the classics like he did on his latest album.

Verni Varga – one of the mainstays of TV music numbers back when TV’s had rotary channel changers, and “Voltes V” posters were given away by Purefoods together with overly colored hotdogs, which they still sell today.

My ignorance, and rather early age during her heyday somehow excuses me from being familiar with whatever songs she put out on the airwaves. But all her venue touring did her well in that she was obviously still used to belting it out with the best of them.

But we went there looking to listen to “OPM,” not Verni’s (albeit impressive) version of “Power of Love,” and “Pokerface.” Good thing she finished up with her original “You’ll Always be My Number One.”

One last thing… In this day and age, nose-jobs are not only acceptable, they are the norm, especially for people in showbiz… but why do most nose-job patients almost always look alike? There were times when Verni almost resembled an early version of Madam Auring.

Charlie Green – who the…!?!? I eventually found out he was one of those “internet sensation” types who found his 15 clicks of online fame doing a kiddie version of the standard “Summer Wind.”

For a kid, sure he can sing. But it seems like little more than a novelty to me to watch a pre-pubescent version of Michael Buble. Let’s see if his “singing career” survives the testosterone onslaught and subsequent voice change.

The CompanY – the singing of this fine vocal ensemble has never been questioned, and their performance is always gusto-filled. However, their weakness as performers has always been the very pop level of appreciation of the general Pinoy audience. And despite their massive collective talent, have not reached the star status they so deserve.

Cecille Reynoso’s subtle performance of their original “Muntik na Kitang Minahal” is easily a highlight in the CompanY’s performances for the evening.

Joey Albert - *sigh* where do I begin with Joey…? Let’s get something out of the way: everyone who loves OPM, or simply good music for that matter, loves Joey Albert, including me, the wife, and dozens of other people I know.

But she seriously needs to retire from live performances.

Joey Albert is immortal. “A Million Miles,” “Tell Me,” “Ikaw Lang ang Mamahalin,” and so many others are over two decades old and still sound relevant (not to mention on everyone’s secret guilty playlist). As an artist, Joey Albert has nothing left to prove. Her much-publicized fight with cancer and subsequent flourish of health and renewed life are also more than admirable. She need not mess with the perfect memory of mine that is Joey Albert of 80’s.

Okay, so my only claim to any relative form of musical training is a brief stint singing bass in a college choir back in the early 90’s, but knowing what little I do and having seen so many singers get on stage past their prime, I honestly believe that Joey Albert could have been more creative in trying to get her old tunes (and her old notes) across to the audience without trying to sound like a poor karaoke version of Joey Albert.

The money notes are over twenty years old, Joey… you’re living a nice, quiet life in Canada and probably don’t get up on stage as much as everyone else on the show today… You are Joey Albert… music lovers like me still speak your name in awe. Stop trying so hard and just sing at the range you are left with. It’s okay. We understand and still love you and your music.

‘nuff said.

Basil Valdez is a musical demi-god. He is probably one of only a handful of Filipino singers whose back catalog is so rich that he can fill a 3-CD boxed set (that the wife and I bought and wanted to ask autographed, but the line was awful) with beautiful songs that have helped define OPM, and still have many tunes left over.

My wife, who while growing up (and growing old) doesn’t care about knowing who sang which song was treated to a wonderful awakening to Basil’s music. And where Joey Albert’s struggled singing and the CompanY’s reputation somehow proved the show wasn’t lip-synched, it was almost pure wonder to listen to Basil’s untarnished voice.

And his gentlemanly demeanor only endears him to the audience even more…

Not a bad evening by most measures (save for the very tardy start), but I was still hoping for that “Million Miles” duet between Gino Padilla and Joey Albert. If they did that, it would have already been worth the price of admission, which in our case was not cheap. Heh heh…

Photo below is a cheesy fanboy shot with Gino Padilla. Cool cheese...

‘catch you later.

Happy birthday to me...

2010-07-10T10:41:00.000-07:00

Last week, i turned 37. Happy birthday to me. Whoopee...

37 is... well, it’s 37. Not a decade-marking year, not “silver” or whatever conjured up milestone most other years supposedly are... heck, it’s even a prime number (for all you math nerds out there, you know prime numbers suck simply because they do).

So at 37 i find myself drifting in that undefined space between one’s quarter-life crisis and the hopefully not upcoming mid-life crisis. I can still slide-skate across a mall or the lobby of Antel Global. But as time goes on, i look dumber and dumber while doing it. I’m at that point where making a variety of crazy sound effects in a quiet elevator no longer gets me labelled as “cool, funny, creative dude.” But more often than not, i now get looks that probably mean “you look old enough to probably be retarded for doing that.” Well, screw you. (and yes, you stiffs know who you are.)

But hey, there’s no escaping getting older. Heck, considering my many friends and acquaintances who have gone to the great beyond (a shout-out of RIP’s to Julius, Tina, Marf, Alfred, and others), one should be thankful for each year, each day, and practically every moment that passes by.

If there’s one thing i’ve learned for the past year, is that no matter how dark life sometimes gets, how painful some wounds are, how pointless so many things seem to be, it’s still wonderful to be alive. And I just had a nice massage...

‘catch you later.

While at a mall...

2010-07-01T11:25:00.000-07:00

While at a mall, i ran into the promo below:

Gluttony is, after all, one of the seven deadly sins. And not only will this kill you, it’ll take you straight to hell for enjoying something so damn delicious.

An indescribably tasty way to go, mind you... therefore, i am inclined to believe that Haagen Daaz is owned by the devil.

But no... i did not partake of this. perhaps i should have...

* * * * * * * *

For what it’s worth, i have the mutant super power to need to shit at public places. So while still at said mall, i walk to the restrooms on the third level to find it’s under renovation... proceed to the fourth level, where i find all cubicles occupied... Then... * TING! * (bell sounds)... then... * grumbling sounds *... then i sprint to the fifth level where only mall staff were using the public washroom.

The wife gave me a bit of tissue. Enough by common standards, really. If there is such a thing as a common standard in wiping one’s ass. But i’ll go on record to say that once one is used to rinsing one’s asshole, wiping never feels enough.

But i digress...

I spied a sad, blue (literally), discarded handkerchief right behind the water closet. Most likely someone came in and did what i did, but did not have a wife who gave him tissue, and he probably didn’t have change to buy tissue from the vending machine, then chose to punish his poor, defenseless handkerchief, then discarded it.

What a sad end to such a dignified thing... Thank the heavens for a wife with tissues.

‘catch you later.

Why is it so Darth in here...?!?!

2010-06-13T10:44:00.000-07:00

Last i heard, Yahoo! is supposed to be an information source of high esteem. Then they come out with this:

http://movies.yahoo.com/feature/buzz-log-darth-vaders-diagnosis.html

The above article could be an indicator of any of the following:

1. The Star Wars/Lucas PR machine is starting to grind something, which means we have to expect something from Georgie’s little ranch.

2. Shrinks in the place where they brainstorm for Yahoo! online articles over warm milk and cookies with too much candy sprinkles are out of work and raffled off supervillains to psychoanalyze.

3. This could be the first in a stupid series of has-been supervillain psycho-profiles by Yahoo!, which means we should expect succeeding articles to profile guys like Wile E. Coyote, Lex Luthor, and Gloria Macapagal Arroyo.

* * * * * * * *

The article in question supposes that Darth Vadah is suffering from “borderline personality disorder.” I mean, duh... The guy is wrapped up in emo-black leather threads, with a son who wants to kill him, same son who almost had an incestuous relationship with his sister, including a yucky lip-lock (awkward!!!), gets a buzzy handshake from his old boss when he gets pissed off, has a waistline so high it belongs in Hong Kong, is jammed with equipment put together from antiques dug out from Radio Shack back when the 8-track was “state of the art, “ and probably eats through a tube stuck in his ass. Ya THINK he may have a disorder?!?!

Ooh ooh... and his lightsaber is a gay pinkie color, which means that it may have a "pink-glowing-dildo-that-will-cut-your-clit" setting. I'm guessing the lightsaber scared Amidala off...

And why on earth is there an article on the supposed psycho problems of a movie villain who doesn’t really exist? Those losers are really running out of material.

And so am i... bwahahahahahaha...

‘catch you later.

infra-red, blue tooth, gray day and a green bag of candy...

2010-06-12T00:03:00.000-07:00

My laptop is on the fifth floor, and i'm too lazy to go grab it.

trying to use my brother's handsome (but small) Acer Ferrari...

Too lazy to work the blue tooth... settled for the infra-red to transfer some phone pics... not a slow day by any measure business-wise, but i feel like some of my neurons are atrophying from lack of stressful use.

Good thing the guys back home are getting along fine despite my erratic attendance. Almost makes me worried about the possibility of my getting irrelevant...

I've been approving an endless string of customer check payments issued by loaning companies. And what's funny is that more than a handful of them proceed to purchase appliances, high-end cellphones and even jewelry (using borrowed money!). I mean, someone tell me what's wrong with this picture?

A gray, foggy, washed out day in the once-pine perfumed city of Baguio... But not a slow business day by any measure...

Can't wait for Marge to get picked up.

'catch you later.

P.S. one of the amusing things about working in a retail outfit is that you get to catch some head-scratching "i-can't-believe-they-let-that-through" moments. One such moment is when our warehouse guy came up to the office to hand us a brand new pack of V-Fresh candies with a worker's glove perfectly sealed in.

No harm done, really. Unless the guy who used to own the glove picked his nose big time and the glove is inside out. Besides, we really don't plan on opening the pack. Just for amusement purposes...

Besides, this isn't the first time, much less the first company to have had something like this. But lucky for the Columbia Candy Company, I saw this when I had nothing interesting to blog about.

Eulogy for Virginia Kaw Kim Golangco (and more...)

2010-06-04T10:41:00.000-07:00

My grandmother, Virginia Kaw Kim Golangco died last May 21st, 2010. She was 98.

The above is normally followed by a string of cliches in connection to going at a more than ripe old age of 98. But i'll spare you that and just refer you to Dianne Reeves' signature ballad, "Better Days."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dlFj9iCnaIE

* * * * * * * *

So that was that. She's gone. We honor her memory and mourn her passing. But sadly, considering the state she was in for quite some time, we no longer grieve her loss. Arguably, we lost her not too long after we lost her husband, our grandfather, over a decade and a half ago.

At 98, Ah-Mah was no longer cognizant of people. Heaven only knew what was still going on in that tired mind of hers. Somehow, it seemed more and more futile to try and get her attention, much less anything coherent. She seemed reduced to people marvelling at her relatively still healthy appetite.

But rest in peace, Ah-Mah. I hope you and Kong Kong are together again. It's all you were waiting for anyways.

And thanks for being there while we were growing up.

* * * * * * * *

i myself have always had this crazy-ass fascination about supposedly dying while the going is relatively good. Call it a pseudo James Dean fetish, if you will. Given my obsession with leaving a supposed legacy before i go to the supposedly great beyond, i get jack nicholson repeatedly sneering in my poor windblown head: "what if this is as good as it gets?"

But the ironic thing about life, is that one cannot quit while one is supposedly ahead. Once one quits (e.g. suicide, anyone...?), the very act of "quitting" negates whatever "ahead-ness" one may think one has. Besides, how "ahead" do we really think we ought to get anyways? When is it really enough? And if one's life was such a bed of roses, why on earth should one quit? Then giving it up would somehow indicate that how good it supposedly is is a lie, right?

But i have an excuse for that.

There are moments where everything seems just intricately perfect in every way that counts to me, that i want to freeze that moment and let it be my last memory.

It's fanciful to think how one can possibly supposedly quit at the supposed "top of his game," but we'll just fall back into that discussion about one's definition of "ahead-ness." Or would one prefer that like Ah-Mah, after a long and fruitful day's work, one fades into the night quietly, helplessly, and somewhat too tired to feel anything anymore? Again quite possibly, the last memory you will leave those around you is that you have lived well, and everyone wishes you well in your afterlife. And people will be both sad, and possibly almost thankful that the bell at Round 12 has already rung for you.

And should you not like it, you'd be too tired, not to mention too dead, to notice anyways.

Or maybe people will be thankful that you cared for yourself enough to make sure that people will be beyond too much hurt by the time you go. Just like a parent would want no less for her children. In that respect, then Ah-Mah has given everyone the love only a mother could give, up to her very last moment.

* * * * * * * *

Between looking around the wake at the relatives, acquaintances and "who-the-hells" coming in and out, and thinking "everyone goes sooner or later," i look at their passing faces and wonder what supposed legacy THEY would leave when their time comes.

Some were doing really well, but then things went down. Some have built companies that are beginning to flourish (will things get better or worse, who knows?), some seem to just be drifting along. But one thing for sure was that legacy or no legacy, everyone was going, sooner or later.

I always wonder if and when the time comes, if i would have already done enough on this earth. And sometimes, my greatest wish is to be there at my own wake when the time comes, listening invisibly to everything they say about me. But then again... maybe not.

'catch you later...

Movie Review: Shrek Forever After (Green Means Going... Away Now)

2010-06-03T10:14:00.000-07:00

Hey, i almost forgot i saw “Shrek 4”... published as “Shrek Forever After.”

That’s good in that it wasn’t bad enough for me remember it was crappy, like i did “Shrek 3.” But i suppose it wasn’t good enough for me to remember either.

So in my pointless quest to document the droll details of my pathetic existence, i offer up my review of “Shrek 4”...

The movie starts off with Shrek enjoying/enduring the joys/pains of his domestically developing life, finds himself fed up, makes a deal with Rumplestiltskin (who is the only new fairy tale-based character throughout the movie), then turns the a few minutes of the movie into “Groundhog Shrek,” then Rumple proceeds to wreak some regular supervillain havoc and subjects our cast of ogres and faerie creatures into an alternate reality. Naturally, Shrek saves the day and they live the usual “happily ever after.”

So “Shrek 4” doesn’t have the novelty of “Shrek 1,” the soap opera drama of “Shrek 2,” thankfully none of the forced superhero pastiche of “Shrek 3,” but what it had the most of compared to all the rest was heart. Where “Shrek” movies at its core is really the love story of Shrek and Fiona, “Shrek 4” really tugged at the right strings and reminded an old man like yours truly why the “Shrek” franchise is enduring as much as it has. Antonio Banderas' "Puss in Boots" steals the show... again.

There. Now i have to schedule therapy to stop myself from overusing these lame “quotation marks.”

‘catch you later.

Unfortunate Events #8646 (hopefully not...)

2010-05-29T07:32:00.000-07:00

Without my saying it, somebody put two and two together and guessed right at what my business was in Baguio City. Not MY business per se, but the family’s anyways...

This somebody was the reception clerk at the home service massage parlor that i patronize whenever i am up north. She proceeded to kindly ask me to give her overage unemployed hubby a chance at a job. And since she had the power to send potentially eunuch-making sadists into my home in the guise of masseuses, i gladly obliged to at least let our HR look past his age and give him a chance.

One day, he got fired.

A couple of days later, i got a text from the receptionist asking me to give her newly re-bumming hubby another shot at employment. Too bad, not within my jurisdiction. Possibly within my power, but we don’t like crossing lines here in the family.

So for a few moments, i was left wondering what kind of evil razor-blade-wielding eunuch-maker i might get if i called in for another therapist.

My regular masseuse, Mae, is apparently unavailable tonight at my preferred time. I am offered a stranger.

If this is my last post, then you will know what happened.

‘catch you later. (hopefully)

Movie Review: Iron Man 2 (Not Even a Slightly Weaker Movie can Bring Downey Down...)

2010-05-13T19:22:00.000-07:00

The first time I saw Iron Man 2, i was having a bad day. The day was so bad, that i spent the time in the cinema sulking with my eyes staring down on the pop corn.

Every once in a while, i found myself trying to glimpse the screen...

For one, it certainly FELT like an Iron Man movie, but somehow... err... anyways...

Saw the movie again last weekend, and my fears were confirmed. It really wasn’t as good as the first movie. But then again, very few sequels really do measure up.

At some point, i imagined that the first Iron Man movie was so damn good, that they picked up a lot of old footage off the cutting room floor, added a few new scenes, digitally added Scarlett Johansson (who was abso-tively scorchingly hot) and Don Cheadle, pasted everything together, then called it Iron Man 2.

But i digress...

The most common mistake of sequels is the assumption that with all the groundwork for the character already laid out, they can just assume to proceed making a movie thinking that just making things bigger will end up being better. Or at the very least, the audience will be so overwhelmed with all the bombastic beefiness of the new movie that the thinness of the current movie’s story will be forgiven.

Sadly, it usually is.

On a lighter note, Bob Downey has totally cemented himself as Tony Stark. And where many actors who occupy comic book roles sleepwalk through their roles, probably thinking that the comics will fill in the cracks in their depiction, Downey took the ball, made a touchdown, ran around the field with the Tony Stark persona, and put himself in the same category as Adam West was to Batman.

In related feedback, Don Cheadle totally did not fit the superhero mold. I have absolute respect for Don Cheadle as an actor, but i kept thinking Terence Howard would have made for a better War Machine...

But hey, still not a bad movie by most standards. And yes, it’s still a Downey movie.

Manny Villar Can Predict the Future

2010-04-23T19:24:00.000-07:00

It’s quite possible that either presidential candidate Manny Villar or his campaign doggies have precognitive abilities.

Check out the image i caught on TV via my phone’s camera...

With all the “business creativity” Manny V has been accused of lately by the media and many fellow “lawmakers,” Manny Villar may have been right in selecting orange since it’s the color of the prison garb he might end up wearing.

Check out the photo on the front page of the Inquirer yesterday...
May well be the image of Manny Villar as he walks into prison and is greeted by his fellow inmates...

'catch you later...

Triple Header Movie Review: “Clash of a Kick-Ass Date”

2010-04-22T19:40:00.000-07:00

How many movies can a regular working guy with a life cram into a single week?

THREE.

Last week saw me and the wife catching “Clash of the Titans,” “Date Night,” and “Kick-Ass.”

Every movie had a reason for me to see it. “Clash...” was a remake of the old classic that i had a Betamax tape of a lifetime ago, and i was curious as hell as to how good the thing would look given today’s available bag of FX tricks... “Date...” had Tina Fey. ‘nuff said. “Kick-Ass” was a superhero movie. Again, ‘nuff said.

So on to my pointless reviews!

“Clash of the Not-so-Titanic...”

I stayed away from the forums and the advance reviews on “Clash...,” and strode into the cinema holding an almost three-decade set of memories containing the booming voice of the late great Laurence Olivier as Zeus, glimpses of the gorgeous Ursula Andres as Aphrodite, the annoyingly indelible visions of Harry Hamlin shaking his 80’s style wild hair as Perseus, and the gratuitous nude bath/sacrifice scene of Judi Bowker’s Andromeda character, which I admit I rewound and replayed in the occasional absence of real porn cassettes.

And while i came into “Clash 2010” knowing this was a supposed remake, i found it quite... derivative.

Firstly, despite the gazillions most likely spent on the effects, it didn’t have quite the grandeur of the first “Clash.” Secondly, they totally screwed up the story and had to make it a “man vs. gods” story that it didn’t have to be... and while i find Bond-gal Gemma Arterton swelteringly hot in a greek-style toga/tunic, i found her character to have been totally shoe-horned in there as a convenient escape hatch for plot problems, without the gratuitous nudity that 80’s movies were so fond of...

The Medusa fight looked like salvaged from the cutting room of Jon Voight’s “Anaconda.” Okay, so the nod to the robot owl from “Clash of 1981” was quirky, but Sam Worthington sometimes looked like he was trying to remember which movie he was actually making this time... and Liam Neeson looked so bored, i wouldn’t have been surprised if he was rehearsing his “A-Team” script in his “Clash” trailer...

Can’t wait for them to ruin THOSE memories... Time to look for a DVD of the “Clash of 1981”...

“Whatta... Date Night”

Wife asked what was in the movie... i said, “Tina Fey, and the 40-Year-Old Virgin...” so she said, “Okay... can’t be too bad...”

Next thing i remember is the wifey laughing her ass off at the dumb car chase...

Tina Fey and Steve Carrell play a suburban couple who are living a nice, but routine life. On the one night they decide to hit the Big Apple and do something different, they didn’t realize just how different the night would end up to be.

After losing their patience waiting for a table at a swank new resto, they claim a table reservation that turns out to have been reserved by crooks. They get mistaken for the crooks, and all hell breaks loose.

Fey and Carrell are totally in their element here, and the producers have competently surrounded them with a cast of losers and oddballs that enhance their characters... most notable of whom is Marky Mark, oops... ‘scuse me... Mark Wahlberg... who turns in a hilariously deadpan performance as a security expert who Fey flirts with, but end up helping save their asses...

One is not expected to oil the gears in one’s brain to enjoy “Date Night.” But one is expected to sit back, laugh his/her ass off, and finally understand how Steve Carrell made dorky the new cool, and why Tina Fey made smart the new sexy.

Cutting room bits thrown into the credits add just the right cherry on top of a real sweet treat.

I want a sequel...

“Kick-Ass Kicked half an ass...”

Stop it, fanboys... i am NOT shitting on the flick...

I liked it... can’t say i loved it... but i liked it...

The posters with Nic Cage in a Batman wannabe suit, along with 3 other characters, including the title character, totally... well... kicked ass... the posters were funny. Quite so, that i was expecting a totally funny movie in the vein of the Ben Stiller vehicle “Mystery Men.” I didn’t get it.

What i got instead was an odd comic-book movie that was promoted to be a comedy, but turned to be a (literally) bloody pastiche of what happens when Batman schools Spidey...

Aaron Johnson plays Dave Lizewski, a typical patsy teenager who does what a ton of us have surely dreamt of doing sometime after puberty. He puts on a suit and pretends to be a superhero calling himself “Kick-Ass.” On one occasion, before getting totally pulped, he is saved by some real super characters in the form of Chloë Grace Moretz’s “Hit-Girl” and Nic Cage’s “Big Daddy.”

Teenage angst and some requisite supervillain posturing ensue, and we are left with a door wide open for a sequel.

The earnestness of Aaron Johnson as the title character will win fanboys over for sure, and Nic Cage’s deadpan rendition of Big Daddy makes you want to root for him and forget he ever made “Ghost Rider.” Moretz was a total discovery and wonderful revelation, and her chemistry with Nic Cage makes you want to forgive Nic Cage for making “Ghost Rider”...

The movie’s biggest achievement is answering my personal “what if” in connection to childhood delusions of superheroism...

At least he got the girl...

-------------------------------------------------------

‘catch you later...

Movie Review: The Book of Eli (slowly turning the pages...)

2010-04-10T01:11:00.000-07:00

Saw “the Book of Eli” a couple of weeks ago...

Just felt like putting this shit down before the rest of the movie fades out of my sad, jumbled brain...

By this time, anyone who cares to read this should already be aware of the post-apocalyptic plotline of “Eli.” They’re pretty vague about what brought about the “end of the world” scenario... either a solar flare or something nuclear... waitaminit... a solar flare IS nuclear... but i digress...

Our man Denzel Washington is a man who fights like a superhero, who should’ve been sent to go after the chainsaw massacre guy in Texas... has a supposed mission to keep heading west to deliver something that is given away by the title of the movie. We are assuming that he is meant to deliver “the Book of Eli.” Clever, huh? Could’ve been...

Along the way, Denzel runs into one Mad Max reject after another, then finds himself taking refuge in a nice little town (what passes for nice in those supposed times anyways...). Negotiates for water, turns down sex with Mila Kunis (of “That 70’s Show” fame), and pisses Gary Oldman off while he’s doing all that.

Somehow, it isn’t surprising to find that the hot item “Book of Eli” is a copy of the Christian Bible. But Gary Oldman’s long-winded desperation to find it to turn it into a power-tripper’s campaign how-to book is thinner than Nic Cage’s hair.

There’s a “Sixth Sense” style twist in the end that does absolutely nothing for the story except make you wonder about everything he did, and how he was able to supposedly do them. Not a bad movie as Denzel always turns in a solid performance. But it's not an unenjoyable movie, one just has to have pop corn on hand, and totally not forget that this is a work of fiction, and is not meant to change the world.

Oh, and Malcolm McDowell is always creepy... will be catching “Clash of the Titans” within the next couple of days... yeah... !

‘catch you later.

...musings...

2010-04-04T04:45:00.000-07:00

At some point, one realizes that by nature, people inadvertently chat about other people’s mistakes in one form or another more than half the time.

So it becomes awkward when one finds one’s self afraid to talk about mistakes since a lot can mirror one’s own. And everything comes crashing back in my face.

The struggle becomes getting better at finding empty conversation, since it’s much better than a fearfully pregnant silence.

And through the chatter, one listens to a clock softly ticking in one’s mind. Hoping that the time of healing will be complete sooner than later.

GMA & FGM: Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde

2010-03-31T21:04:00.000-07:00

So the secret’s out. Not that it was very well-kept to begin with anyways.

The Arroyos are backing Manny Villar. This isn’t very different from a couple of days ago when Ricky Martin announced he was/is gay. I will pretend to act surprised. I will pretend that this is excitingly new and fresh water cooler conversation.

This late in the campaign game, when the wheels are already turning and the gears have been put in their right places, the Trojan horses and the moles have started to skittle out and break out of the woodwork... of course, the stink and steam have been leaking off the loosely placed lid of the Arroyo/Villar campaign for far too long. It sort of smells like a “dagat ng basura,” so to speak. I’d even like to think that supposed administration candidate Gilbert Teodoro is so damn likable that some people are just hoping that the Villar/Arroyo joint venture could be untrue for his sake.

I mean, who would want to screw with someone who seems to be such a genuinely nice fellow? Ah, i forget... the Arroyos can screw ANYONE, so what makes Gibo so special? The next question now is whether Gibo really didn't know a thing about it, or is he following a pre-agreed script?

Anyways... it’s nice how the Arroyos are such great entertainers that they’ve played the whole “Jekyll and Hyde” schtick to perfection, with Little Gloria as Dr.Jekyll and FG Mike in the role of Mr. Hyde. At the end of the day, they are one and the same person (or in this case, have one and the same agenda), but one is a front, and the other does all the work they really want to do anyways.

Manny Villar is a businessman. If the money's good, a deal's a deal, right? Makes perfect business sense.

We’re all doomed...

‘catch you later...

if I had a gun...

2010-03-30T21:14:00.000-07:00

Last March 25, 2010, i had a bit of an accident.

After what had been a nice long night, it had been a long and unnecessarily stressful day, and i was driving home... Suddenly dozed off, and let go of the brake pedal. The vehicle was automatic, so without the brakes, it slid forward and kissed the ass of the Honda Jazz right in front me.

As expected, the driver and his female companion unboarded their car, and proceeded to vent their understandably righteous fury at yours truly. Then all hell broke loose...

Below is a letter i would imaginarily send Mr. Raffy (the aggrieved driver's name as i was to learn) after all the adrenaline has stopped crash-cading through my jugulars, and my voice stops sounding like bryan adams after he swallows 10 feet of sandpaper from yelling at Mr. Raffy’s sad, fat ass...

____________________________________________

Dear Mr. Raffy...

When i hit your car, i immediately went down to offer my apologies, as well as discuss the settlement of damages. You started by screaming "punyeta" the moment you stepped out your car, but i more than understood. When you started loudly grumbling about how well cared-for your car was, i looked at your gleaming Jazz and had to concur. When you declared that i had no right to be on the road if i really was that tired, i repeated my apology.

Then a woman whose face had sharper corners than a triangle, pop-out eyes, and a voice that could shatter tempered glass came out of the passenger side and started screaming a lot of obvious things that were pointless, since I wasn’t arguing whether or not I was at fault. And probably because she was your wife, you joined her in screaming more obviousness.

I DIDN’T DENY IT WAS MY FAULT, DAMMIT. PLEASE STOP THE FUCKING SCREAMING.

I asked that we pull over and discuss compensation, but your wife still kept shouting. So I did the next best thing. I screamed the fuck back at you and the woman, who you just said was your wife. Now I REALLY feel so sorry for you, man.

NOW PLEASE STOP THE FUCKING SCREAMING.

IF I HAD A GUN, I would have pulled it out just to make your stupid screaming wife piss in her pants and scuttle back into your newly dented Honda Jazz praying that the crazy man screaming back at her and pointing a gun would again ask to peacefully pull over and talk about it. AND YOUR STUPID WIFE WOULD WISH SHE NEVER GOT OUT OF THE CAR AND STARTED SCREAMING AT ME IN THE FIRST PLACE.

The MMDA finally come over and tell you guys the obvious. That we have to take photos (which you guys already did), pull over and talk about it. I said that’s exactly what I’ve been asking you guys to do, BUT YOU IDIOTS WOULDN’T STOP SCREAMING.

When we hit the precinct, we were asked if we wanted to discuss settlement on our own. You guys said yes. Which was what we could have done IF YOU GUYS CHOSE THAT OVER SCREAMING AT ME over an hour ago.

Your wife stated that your vehicle was maintained at a Honda shop. Err… news for you, buddy… I just checked the Honda dealerships. THEY DO NOT HAVE ANY SERVICE RECORD OF YOU, YOUR CAR, OR YOUR LOUD STUPID WIFE.

But by the time I post this, I’d have already sent the check over to Honda Cars Pasig, and a nice gentleman by the name of Glen Bellosillo will already have your receipts in his possession. Said gentleman will then be waiting for you to bring your car over to finally get it fixed, AND YOU WILL HOPEFULLY HAVE TOLD YOUR WIFE TO LEARN TO NOT SCREAM AT STRANGERS.

Who knows? Said stranger might have a gun and point it at her just to shut her up.

Amen.

‘catch you later… NOT.

...a REAL Saturday.

2010-03-27T10:17:00.000-07:00

A Saturday with no serious agenda is a real Saturday in my humble opinion.

So today is/was a real Saturday.

Wife asked me to wash the van before we head out to our “no agenda” day and i concurred. Only to be reminded while doing so, that being 5'5” is a total bitch... washed the vehicle’s roof on a step ladder and was abso-tively certain i was going to fall off and scratch the side of van... thank heavens for some serious rubber traction on the ladder’s legs.

* * * * * * * *

Drove to the Medical City for an important, but not urgent errand... had a late lunch with Marge and the wifey at Amici, Tomas Morato... brought Marge home... then crashed into a droll-looking Gruppo Barbero along Tomas Morato for some hand, foot, and ear pampering... then he-who-is-known-by-his-adoring-public-as-Michael-V comes in with his son for haircuts. Serious-looking and sounding dude... considering he’s practically one of the funniest guys filling up the TV screens. At least after the political campaigning is over... right now, nothing’s funnier than the preposterousness of many of the campaign ads running on TV. So yeah... for now, Michael V isn’t the funniest guy on TV. I give that to Manny Villar... everyone else is a close second.

* * * * * * * *

Went to Robinson’s Supermarket in that new condo building along Timog before heading home. Had to grab a few little things to round dinner up.

Was approached by one of those Nestle promo girls for their “let’s check your health and wellness” campaign. She offered the wife and i a “free assessment” on supposed things like height vs. Weight ratio and all that... told her, i already knew i was short and fat.

Then added that at least i know there are shorter and fatter people running around on the planet. So yeah... i’m fine with my “wellness.”

And while i have had my share of bad copywriting throughout my supposed ad-man career, some things are so bad they’re good... anyone for seafood? Try dropping by Robinson’s Supermarkets’ “Lenten FISH-tival.” Bwahahahahahaha...!

* * * * * * * *

My favourite masseuse desperately keeps trying to squash my “bayabas-sized” lipoma on my lower back around forty five minutes after a home-cooked dinner of munggo and galunggong... and now i’m blogging...

Now THIS is a real Saturday.

‘catch you later...

earthquake...

2010-03-24T23:15:00.000-07:00

6.1 magnitude earthquake from the 31st floor.

uhm...

err...

i'm still blogging...

'catch you later...

back in the free stock image game...

2010-03-24T08:22:00.000-07:00

not too long ago, i was inspired by a fledgling little website called sxc.hu
"sxc" stood for "stockxchange," and it was a godsend for graphic designers like yours truly who had more than a few clients with rather limited budgets and couldn't afford paid stock photos, much less full-blown shoots.

said website inspired me to shoot shoot and shoot... and sort of get better... quickly accumulated over 200 photographs all available to those who needed them free of charge.

anyways... to cut a long story short... that site changed management, is now run by assholes, and has kicked me out for openly promoting another site composed of disgruntled former sxc members.

many of the best images on sxc are now here... check it out.

http://www.rgbstock.com/

long live rgbstock...

'catch you later...

Movie Review: Alice in Wonderland (My Cup of Tea...)

2010-03-19T02:37:00.000-07:00

Ham and cheese... Starsky and Hutch... Bill Medley and Bobby Hatfield... pop corn and soda... Tim Burton and Johnny effing Depp... some things just make magic when put together.

Given the level that CGI is at this point, it was about bloody time someone did Lewis Caroll’s satirical fantasy. Having Tim Burton pick up the gauntlet was crazy-great enough, but him bringing along his usual gang of suspects from buddy Depp, bed buddy Helena Bonham Carter, and Timothy Spall, with help from Alan Rickman, Anna Hathaway, Stephen Fry and Hollywood’s favourite weirdo, Crispin Glover... man... Burton just had a field day.

It isn’t really that surprising when one thinks about it. Between the stop-motion animated movies to Edward Scissorhands to Beetlejuice and everything else between the cracks, Burton has practically given his audience bits and pieces of what would be his Wonderland.

But i don’t think i can say anything that hasn’t really been said before. Since the love triangle of Burton, Depp and Carter has so many geeky fans that there are a gazillion blog reviews out there. And yes, i am putting this one down a whole two weeks after seeing the movie to join said geeky fans and reaffirm my geeky coolness factor.

Johnny Depp playing the Mad Hatter is cool as always, but Helena Bonham Carter as the Red Queen totally rocked. She obviously had so much fun here, it was a joy every time she was on screen. And yes, Mia Wasikowska (what the hell is UP with that name...?) as the eponymous “Alice” was absolutely brilliant.

Am i geeky cool now...?

‘catch you later.

broken record

Letters to Marge...

Happy 2012, everyone...

Letters to Marge (Chapter 28): Happy halloween...

Underachieving PNoy and the house of cockroaches...

The Myth of the Human Body (A Bare Bones Exhibit)

CD Review: "The Hands of Time" (Gino Padilla), A Gem Buried in the Quagmire Known as Contemporary Philippine Music

Delayed Movie Review: Captain America (Bye-Bye, Miss American Pie... Hellooooo, Avengers...!)

Pictures from the Other Side of the Valley

Letters to Marge: Chapter 27 (See you in the future…)

Hmm... Sa Tingin Ko Po Hindi Po Nagsisinungaling si Po...

Art... Right...

Movie Review: Heh-Ree Pot-Tah (the Finally Final Chap-Tah... Or Rickman Really Rocks)

The Cirque was in Town (My Review of Cirque du Soleil's Varekai)

Pointless thoughts from last weekend... (071711)

Comic Book Review: The Filipino Heroes League, Book One (Better Value than a Two-Piece Chickenjoy Meal, which will cost pretty much the same, i think...)

Things I would have tweeted while in China...

Delayed Movie Review: Thor (Why Chris Hemsworth Must Die)

Happy Birthday to me again... 2011

Another Day in Disneyland 050211

Thumbs Up: My 15-Second Run-In with former president Fidel V. Ramos

Dear Mr. Tarsier Mascot

Letters to Marge (Chapter 26): Watching you sleep...

Happy Valentine's... You're Dead.

Greek-isms... (012711)

Movie Review: The Green Hornet (Worth the Buzz...)

Back Again... Again...

Not a Movie Review: Due Date (Dear Bob...)

The Alien Truth About Gloria Macapagal Arroyo

Movie Review: Megamind (3D Movie, 2D Characters...)

Pilipinas Kay Ganda... sana.

Concert Review: The Gin Blossoms in Manila (My "Real" Review... Pieces of that Night)

Concert Review: Gin Blossoms in Manila (Music Still Worth Drinking To... My "Short" Concert Review)

Movie Review: The Other Guys (I Got Dumber, But Laughed My Dying Brains Out)

Movie Review: The Social Network (Revenge of the Nerds: The Gazillions Sequel)

Delayed Movie Review: EAT PRAY LOVE (PIG-OUT, THINK, FUCK)

TV Review: $#*! My Dad Says (Shat should stop this $#*!)

What’s the big deal about the dying of NU107?

Waiting for a serve...

Very rare reflective moment...

Maverick Musings... (After Halloween)

Sunday (102410):

20 Days Late...

Sunday (101710)

TV Review: No Ordinary Family (Ordinary Story, Ordinary Show...)

Movie Review: Despicable Me (The title was a dead give-away...)

Musical "What-Ifs"

Nothing: 090110

Movie Review: Mamarazzi (Funny, but wrong on so many levels...)

Concert Review: Boyz II Men, Aug.13, 2010 (Nowhere near the End of the Road for these Boyz)

Movie Review: The Expendables (Everything's expendable... even the plot)

whoa, kiddo...

Fogged out...

Movie Review: Inception (All in my head...)

Concert Review: OPM Through the Years (Lots of Old Hits, a Few Honest Misses...)

Happy birthday to me...

While at a mall...

Why is it so Darth in here...?!?!

infra-red, blue tooth, gray day and a green bag of candy...

Eulogy for Virginia Kaw Kim Golangco (and more...)

Movie Review: Shrek Forever After (Green Means Going... Away Now)

Unfortunate Events #8646 (hopefully not...)

Movie Review: Iron Man 2 (Not Even a Slightly Weaker Movie can Bring Downey Down...)

Manny Villar Can Predict the Future

Triple Header Movie Review: “Clash of a Kick-Ass Date”

Movie Review: The Book of Eli (slowly turning the pages...)

...musings...

GMA & FGM: Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde

if I had a gun...

...a REAL Saturday.

earthquake...

back in the free stock image game...

Movie Review: Alice in Wonderland (My Cup of Tea...)

TV Review: $#! My Dad Says (Shat should stop this $#!)