Monday, December 20, 2004

Once in a while...

...I do a cameo :)

An inconspicuous-looking SoloFlite at the retro-themed company party last friday(before he met up with ever-dependable partner-in-crime Jose Cuervo to bring laughter and merriment to all...)


Geez. I think I gained 10 pounds in 3 days! The past weekend has seen me eating and drinking uber-cholesterol/sugar/alcohol laden food and drinks. Damn these parties!

I had (mainly) lechon for lunch and dinner since saturday. And today, being sick of stuffing up all that fat down my arteries...

I went for the healthier option: SeaFood...

Though I dont think enough vitamins, minerals, anti-carcinogens and immuno-enhancers can be supplied by Alige ng Chili Crab... :)

Damn. I think my life expectancy has just been reduced by another year..

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Google on Solo

swiped from Sarah's site.

What does Google say about soloflite?

I highlighted the stuff that applies to me. The rest... oh well, you decide.

solo is still the norm
solo is one of 13 hermann trophy candidates
solo is famous for the two kraton
solo is now espresso
solo is a treasure
(I like this site)
solo is enough
(Yeah baby!)
solo is sensational in goal as us
solo is refueled in
solo is login
solo is not kid's stuff to a mom
solo is one of 13 hermann trophy candidates husky junior nominated for "heisman trophy" of soccer
solo is a home
solo is famous for the two kraton's
solo is now espresso and we wanna be on some hi fi stations huh
solo is intended for use within third
solo is a treasure wilco frontman rocks
solo is the best (Amen!!)
solo is a next
solo is we are now offering the solo is
solo is mit dem solo is bieten wir ihnen eine online
(I think this is german for "Solo is drop-dead-gorgeous so meet him online")
solo is lying across in fertile plain terrain along the longest river in java (Damn. They got that picture of me sprawled over in drunken contentment??)
solo is a clean sheet
solo is all about taking risks
(Nuff said)
solo is sensational in goal as us women take gold medal (I have a knack for this stuff)
solo is refueled by kc
solo is cool
(I know, I know...)
solo is the most advanced pdf extraction tool available
solo is compliant with microsoft's sapi 5
solo is ideal for a wide range of applications where quality is essential and where the device supports the memory required
(I think this was in my resume)
solo is gone
solo is the son of pik k├Ânig
solo is your own personal ski machine
solo is perfect for family fun
(That doesnt sound quite right...)
solo is a remote
solo is a small
solo is the only way to go with 216
solo is functioning properly
(At least... last i chceked)
solo is the air supply that is compact
solo is frame
solo is returning to rmi
solo is avantgarde's first fully active dual
solo is part bird
(Nah. I just look like Richard Gutierrez)
solo is one of the best combinations of strength
solo is expressly designed to make a big impression at a very small price
solo is sporting canoeing on rivers and white
solo is an acoustical wood plank product consisting of a perforated medium density fiberboard
solo is ideal for diy paper research
solo is one note
solo is a year old today
solo is cited as a major force in the development of wilderness medicine in the journal of wilderness medicine's article by warren bowmann
(Thank you warren... I swear, I could never have done it without you...)
solo is an ezine written by and for the small business
solo is an ideal solution offering low cost and high performance
(Doesnt this sound a bit sleazy to you?)
solo is subject to certain minimum requirements and limitations which are listed below
solo is available to buy on line through our secure shop
(Ack! More sleazy stuff)
solo is a purely social organization open to unattached lesbians who are comfortable hanging around with other women in the 40+ age bracket (OKKkaaaaaay. THIS is definitely the sleaziest.)
solo is produced in the traditions of good danish craftsmanship and with a simple
solo is here
solo is compatible met alle gangbare systemen
solo is a folding kayak with truly distinctinve eskimo sea kayak design
solo is one of the most advanced pdf extraction tool available
solo is the new legal time accounting system from opsis specifically designed for sole practitioners
solo is supplied in either a hand
solo is updated
solo is moody and slow and stays in the lower register (For whatever that means...)
solo is located in the province of jawa tengah
solo is important musically because they represent an era that has been forgotten
solo is a perfect example of clifford brown and the many characteristics that mark his style
solo is very strange
(Nah... You just caught me on a bad hairday...)
solo is a bit fancier
solo is built
solo is a powerful and transparent desktop encryption solution that will automatically encrypt saved information on pc’s and laptops
solo is an ideal training tool for individuals looking to improve their fitness
(yes. just give me a bullwhip and start running on the threadmill)
solo is having a hard day
(which is why i picked on this crazy list)
solo is a tricky single note riff and the solo itself is brimming with energy
(Sounds just right)
solo is desktop software primarily for users that do not require a
solo is available in a choice of lengths at either 8
solo is the perfect soldier
(Which reminds me... Airsoft anyone? )
solo is a cost
solo is a fully rigged schooner
solo is ideal for areas where two speakers are not necessary yet high quality stereo is still desired
solo is our most economical model (At last... someone realizes im model material! Oh... wait...)
solo is more of a concert
solo is the right system
solo is a new addition to the blanik family of two
solo is our most economical hard drive duplicator
solo is used on this page to distinguish this game from various other
games called solo
solo is a full personnel placement workflow system for solo recruiters or partnerships
solo is featured in his endor gear outfit and includes a blaster pistol (Wooohoo!! My own action figure!!! Oh wait... Endor gear? What? Im an ewok with a blaster pistol??!)

Saturday, December 11, 2004

Totally Random Thoughts

Pardon the incoherent thoughts. Been through a lot lately.

While playing billiards, I realized that I tend to miss the easiest of shots but have a knack for getting the "miracle shots" in. Geez. Is that a curse or what?

Does this mean that deep inside, I really want complicate my life?

My best writings are always unexpected, unplanned and always, always uncalled for. Give me a deadline, I'll miss it. Give me a topic, I'll stray away from it. Give me an outline, I'll bastardize the damn thing.

I guess Im never gonna be a REAL writer. So i'll just do it for fun :)

Talked with a fellow blogger the other night. He's a minor celebrity in some spheres, and thus has a number of grudging admirers. And they tend to flame him for the most minor of things.

Like one time he posted about how he could have used his rent money instead for a downpayment for a new car. His comments were like "You deserve to die cocksucker! ...blah blah... dont talk that way about money like we arent in a 3rd world country... blah blah"

God, Im thankful for my, now i realize this, more docile and appreciative readership. The worst I got was death threats from the PMS mafia from this post.

In a sick sense of a way, I like the storm Yoyong. His gatecrashing served as a great wakeup call for all of us to rethink what the hell we've been doing all this time.

Pacman chewed up Fahsan. Definitely cannonfodder.

I think I'll get myself a Sony Ericsson K700 for christmas (more like, will ask SMART to give it to me for free hehe).

Damn. I just reminded myself of Christmas shopping.

Bah humbug.

Got home at 5am after partying at V-bar. Woke up at 3pm with a helluva headache.

Months ago, I would have woke up at 7 with no hangover whatsoever. My resistance to gimmick and alcohol is really going down. This is bad.

My wisdom tooth has a cavity. It scrapes my jaw from time to time. And its located at the back of my mouth so no dentist wants to do a decent root canal or filling for it. Looks like I have to have it extracted or just live with the constant pain.

Damn, and with me allergic to Alaxan.

Visited a friend earlier.

His 6-year old special child is confined right now for cancer and it looks really bad. The doctors say they could have prevented it if it was diagnosed earlier, but being autistic, the poor kid had no way of telling his parents how much pain he was in. He would just cry all alone until one day the parents were concerned because he couldnt even walk anymore. It was only then, after a battery of tests that they found out he had a mass the size of a DUMB BELL (yes. that big) in his abdomen.

Pls include him in your prayers. He'll really need a miracle.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Anatomy of a Scam: The Real Story Behind the Faye San Juan Fiasco

While watching the American Idol...

Faye: Mommy! mommy! I wanna be famous! Just like that girl Jasmine Trias.

Mom: (sighs) Just pretend you're an American Idol winner. If you fake it, you'll make it. Just like, uh... William Hung.

Faye: Ok mommy.

Two days later...

Faye: Mommy! Mommy! Look at me. (dances she-bangs ala William Hung)

Mom: (slaps head) ...sorry to burst your bubble deary. But I think you're really not cut out to sing or dance.

Faye: But mommy! What do I tell the other kids I'm good at?

Mom: Well... for one, tell them you can mentally compute the cube root of any number.

Faye: But they havent taught us what a cube root is.

Mom: Exactly.

At the church...

Mom: well Faye, show them.

Faye: Ok mommy.

Mom: Faye can mentally compute the square of the cube root of the quitiplic anegorbal of any number within seconds!

Pastor: Woah! (Keanu Reeves style in the Matrix)

Crowd: Woah! (Keanu Reeves style in The Devil's Advocate)

Mom: Just watch. Faye. What is the square of the cube root of the quitiplic anegorbal of 8,090,003,030,009.01?

Pastor: My God! Thats a tough one!

Congregation: Quitiplic Anegorbal!! Wwwwooooow...

Faye: (flashes toothy grin) Two hundred... Twelve!

Pastor: (jaw drops to the floor) Woooow!

Congregation: (jaws drop to the floor) Wooow!

Mom: See. She is indeed a national treasure. Do you believe our story now?

Pastor: Do I believe it??!! I'll publish it!

Congregation: Yeah!!! Publish it!!!!

Pastor: ...using the church funds! Hehehe Gotcha!

Congregation: ...damn.

One week later... in an interview with Patricia Evangelista in their San Juan residence

Pat: Seriously. I tried checking out the International Math Contest for the American Idol Wannabes competition you mentioned. It cant seem to find it in the internet!

Mom: Well, like I said. We beat the Germans and Americans there. Of course they'd censor it. Damn bastards.

Pat: Uh... ok. But can you at least show me the trophy?

Mom: Oh, I left it at home.

Pat: (looks around) But we ARE at your home.

Mom: I mean, our uhh, other home. Right faye?

Faye: Yes mommy. Its with our Tito Boy in Recto.

Pat: Oh I see. Too bad then. Can I see it later?

Faye: Tito Boy said it will be ready by tomorrow.

Mom: Thats enough faye. Why dont you show pretty Patty a demonstration of your mathematical genius?

Pat: Wow! I really would like to see it.

Mom: Ok. Faye, What is the square of the cube root of the quitiplic anegorbal of 8,090,003,030,009.01?

Pat: Woah! (Keanu Reeves Style in Speed)

Faye: Seven Hundred... Sixteen!

Pat: Wow! She's good! No need for me to see that trophy.

Mom: See. I told you.

Pat: I see. So tell me again how you lost your passport in Australia?

Mom: Wouldn't you believe it? A couple of pinays offered to help us, then robbed us of our passports in broad daylight! You never know who would con you.

Pat: Yeah. Lucky for the rest of us, there are honest people like you.

The truth unravels... Cathy and Faye's Gig is up

The Worldwide Web... Excerpts from various blogs:

Newspaper Journalist:
There is no International Math Contest for the American Idol Wannabes competition in Australia! She's Lying! It was held in Florida!

Sixth Grade Blogger:
They just taught us cube roots at school. Faye did my homework, and now I flunked math! That bitch is a phony!

Esteemed Anegorbalist:
The Square of the cube root of the quitiplic anegorbal of 8,090,003,030,009.01 is FIFTY Seven!!! She is lying!

Pat Evangelista's Blog:
I just found out they have no home in Recto and there is no Tito Boy registered in their geneaological chart! They lied to me!

The Fake Tito Boy's Blog:
I just found out they paid me a fake 500 peso bill for the fake trophy!! That bitch!

Keanu Reeves's Blog:

And thus, through the help of various bloggers around the country, the truth was finally exposed about the great fabricated lie that was Faye, the International Math Champion of the American Idol Wannabes....

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

Idiotic Moment of the Week:

Talked with a friend in YM this morning...

Friend: Hi! I'm in Seattle. You want a Halo2?
Me: May halo-halo ang Seattles Best?

Turns out she was in the US. And she was asking if I wanted the Halo II X-box title because it seemed like the hot commodity there.

Oh well. Pinoy talaga ako.


In any case, I'm still thinking whether to get an Xbox or not...
Do I really want to give Bill gates another $150? (And even more to the friendly neighborhood pirates?)

Lets see.

Sunday, November 07, 2004

Revisiting Friendster

Until recently, I had pretty much given up on Friendster (yes, despite this earlier post) because of the irritatingly slow message system and the number of unfamiliar faces sending messages or asking to be my friend out of the blue.

Of course, blogging too had a hand at my falling out with Friendster. Posts and comments were just way more interesting and dynamic than testimonials (plus i kinda got used to rejecting unflattering testimonials hehe), and the tagboard actually made for better messaging. Overall, if you want a window to a netizens soul, you go to the blog, not the friendster page.

But then again, theres a nifty feature that was added recently that shows you which of your friends has a birthday coming up.

Take Wilf for example (scroll down my Links site... its Wilf the NBA Addict/...something).

His birthday cake popped up last week in Friendster, so I expect ex-roomies/classmates/batchmates/girlfriends/blockmates and evil gay twins to just bombard his site with birthday greetings demanding the freely flowing alcoholic party we rightly deserve.

Would I have remembered his birthday without Friendster? Of course. But its more fun if more people remember.... so we could coerce the blowouts easier.

That in itself should be a reason to check out Friendster once in a while at least.

And oh yeah, Advanced/Belated Happy Birthday Wilf. Libre!!!! Hehe :D

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

In defense of the Typical Male: Chapter 2

Below is a YM I had sometime back (meaning some months ago, but i was too tamad to blog about it til recently)...

Soloflite: my friend was telling me how he ate 60 siomais in 30 minutes in Superbowl's eat all u can promo
Insane D: iew. UMAY.
Soloflite: he had it yesterday.. And we already pigged out last sat on it! 30 nga lang sumusoko na ako e... 4 hrs pa kami nandun
Insane D: you can never really be sure of what they put in dimsum
Soloflite: LOL!! Shrimp naman to e
Insane D: how much is it? eat all u can
Soloflite: 120 pesos. but only from 2-6pm. Sulit sobra!
Insane D: sulit nun a!
Soloflite: Yeah, i was doing an extra kilometer on my threadmill routine since we pigged out. But theres a limited selection lang. Pansit canton, 5 types dimsum, and around 3 desserts and unlimited iced tea
Insane D: ok, thats just gluttony na. Gluttonous i mean. Wow. thats crazy
Soloflite: yeah... im still shocked... He says hes planning another one tomorrow... he'll target 100 na!!
Insane D: hehehehehe
Soloflite: these friends of mine... tsk tsk..
Insane D: thats just insane. boys, tsk tsk... You'll never hear girls say anything like that
Soloflite: yeah. yet another stereotypical testosterone-induced situation, i guess.
Insane D: "O my god, like, i had, like 100 siomai kanina. We made kain at superbowl and its super mura!!
Insane D: Super eat all you can!"
Soloflite: LOL!! I wanted another siomai, but its getting to be kadiri na...
Soloflite: But yeah, point taken. Its the hormones i think...

Got me thinking. Besides the fact that girls never seem to talk about eating 100 siomais for lunch, theres something typically male about what we tend to talk about.

Girls would go through the timeless questions of "Am I fat?", "Does this blouse look good on me?" or "What do you think of my new hairdo?". while we guys wince and squirm in indecision whether its a Yes or No she wants to hear (when in fact, the reaction going thru our mind is "WTF??! I didnt notice anything different!"), the females would have an equally canned answer "Of course you're not fat", "You look absolutely gorgeous in that outfit" or "OMG! I love your hair!!!"

I admit I cant read what goes on behind the female mind, but I know this: Any answer that comes from the mouth within 2 milliseconds of hearing the question is either a babble of surprise or a deviously crafted white lie carefully prepared just for that occasion.

And males have their own versions of the White Lie (besides pickup lines. Pickup lines i'll probably have another chapter on.)

Bigger, better and more exciting testosterone-enhanced versions.

Its in the war stories we swap while having lunch, the adventures we brag about in the bar, or the little black books we talk about nonchalantly any chance we get. Its the "big fish that got away" or the "hot chick we dated last night". And when an alpha-male wannabe starts talking, the others try to top it off with their own story.

Weird, this subtle one-upsmanship that brings out the competitiveness in every guy. Take for example the "fun leagues" that people organize that somehow end up with the nastiest slugfests and dirtiest trash talks. Think about it. It starts out with people "playing for fun", but once the excitement catches on, everyone just uses every dirty trick in the book just to win.

We guys play to win, because we want the rights to brag about it.

This I believe is more evolutionary than hormonal.

Back in the days when all men had to do to shack up with a woman was to club her on the head and drag her by the hair to his place, the only other real necessity besides hunting was to protect his own territories.

Other animals mark their territories by pissing on them. Human alpha males, on the other hand, protected theirs by cornering every non-alpha male that tried to get into his private harem and smacking him on the head. Then describe in every gory detail (enhanced version of course) the horrors of what he did to the hapless bastard to the whole tribe/community. Word would spread that resident in the particular cave was a savage cold-blooded brute and the other males would avoid it like the plague. And yes, the females would find him strangely irresistable.

Needless to say, it was the Alpha males' genes that got passed on from generation to generation.

And the stories would get better through time. The knight rescuing the damsel of distress would talk about his valiant war stories before doing the moves.

Knight: "I actually got back from a quest where I beat up the town drunk... er Ogre. Yeah, an Oh-Grrrre. A Big mean ogre."

Damsel : "OMG! A real life ogre?! What was it like?"

Knight: "Yeah. The ogre was uh... Big, Fat and Ugly. And smelled like beer.. They're like onions you know. With uh, layers."

Damsel: "Oooohhh. What a brave, brave big strong, absolutely-sexy handsome man you are.... Oh look. Why are my clothes on the floor?" *Hug, kiss, lapdance*

And thus, more genes of the alpha-male-wannabes got passed on thru the generations. Of course, when people started to realize there really arent any Dragons or Ogres, the stories started changing as well.

In time, these became the popular stories of sailors (with their women in each port), war veterans (where they got shot at from all directions and killed off their millions of attackers with only a one-shot-rifle and their bayonet), merchants (with their cities of gold and beautiful exotic women) and even diplomats (theyre politicians. Nuff said), all trying to outdo the stories of the ones before them. And guess who got the girls? (and in turn passed more of their genes thru the generations?)

Thus, the Typical Males of today are highly evolved humans, who thru generations of weeding out the most cowardly and useless pickup lines, have this primal urge to up the ante in all their endeavours.

Not just to get a chance to pass on their genes to the next generation mind you (though it does work for that most of the time). In this age where billions of people now live and where there is basically almost no chance of losing the family line, it isnt a necessity anymore. But the blood of our ancestors call us to action nonetheless.

The Typical males will always say "I've seen worse" in the strongest of earthquakes or the most savage of hurricanes. They will say "I dated better" to his friend who just introduced him to Angelina Jolie or Maria Sharapova. And they will always say "He was lucky the sun was in my eye" whenever they got beat up by anyone who got pissed at all their bullshit.

So there.

Its in our blood. Its in our DNA. And Im even willing to bet that it might even be a protein in that sneaky Y chromosome that causes it.

So whether my friend really did get to eat a hundred siomais or just fifty in one sitting, I have no choice but to prove I can top it the next time we meet. Or at least have a better claim to fame.

Its a curse the Typical Male has to bear.

Sunday, October 31, 2004

The House of Flying Tigers ....(and Hidden Dragons)

After trying valiantly to write a coherent, grammatically correct and stylishly flowing essay, I now submit to my natural tendency to just blabber incoherently. (Yeah, this first sentence should warn you enough. Writers Block still has a helluva grasp on me.)


The past few years saw a lot of trends in hollywood filmmaking. But the most recent is probably the return of the sequels. Most, if not all the new films are either modern day remakes of old movies, spin-offs of great movies or sequels and prequels to successful movies.

What's to expect for next year? I mean, with this trend in moviemaking, are we to assume that they are out of ideas? WHAT IF they did get desperate enough to try crazy ideas?

In any case... Here's some of mine:


Crazy Hollywood Idea # 1:

The most successful film in history deserves nothing more than a sequel. Or maybe in this case, a prequel.

Leo Di Caprio will star in the prequel to the multi-award winning Titanic. It will chronicle his misadventures as the dashing young rascal who painted rivers and spat on naked young french girls.

Crazy Hollywood Idea # 2:

Tom Cruise will return once more as the katana-wielding Nathan Aldrin in the sequel to his oriental-inspired masterpiece in...

"The Last Samurai.

Crazy Hollywood Idea # 3:

Matt Damon will return in a love-story spin-off of his popular super-spy blockbusters in...

"Bourne for You"

*Thanks to PJ for the idea

Crazy hollywood Idea # 4:

Anne Hathaway turns online in the newest installment of her royal series in...

"The Princess Blogs"

Crazy Hollywood Idea # 5:

Tired of the usual spy flicks, they'll try out a little Asian twist inspired by The Tuxedo. Only this time, they'll use American Idol Celebrity Will Hung in the spy flick (title to be annouced) as the debonaire secret agent happily banging away with his big gun...

His trademark tagline with the women (delivered in a cassanova James Bond Fashion) will be
"I'm Hung. Well Hung."

Crazy Hollywood Idea # 6:

Inspired by Reality-based television and the success of films such as Supersize Me, the producers of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy will have the Fab Five in a homophobic thriller where they try to do popular TV host Joe Rogan against his will.


Crazy Hollywood Idea # 7:

Again, inspired by Supersize Me, Fastfood Giants McDonalds and Burger King strike back using Danny DeVito and Mini-Me's comedic antics in...

"Would you rather be Undersized?"

Ah well. Thats one reason im not in showbiz :)

Tuesday, October 26, 2004


After finishing almost six hours worth of online learning,
I have now certified my brain as mush.

I've taken a number of online courses before, and most of the packaged courses I got are basically glorified powerpoint presentations with some interactive features with a pre-recorded speaker's voice droning in the background.

Supposedly this allows you to finish a class at your own pace and the canned presentation the educators to standardize their lectures.

But this doesnt work for me.

Back in college, the only ways for me to keep myself awake during class were:
  • 1. Draw the teacher in various idiotic situations and pass it around during class

    2. Ask enough intelligent/rhetorical/smartass/idiotic questions to keep the professor on his/her toes, but not enough to trigger a heart attack (though some came dangerously close)

    3. Just cut the damn class altogether

All of these, I obviously cannot do while taking an online course.

Thus, I have no other option but to blog while listening.

But I digress... This post is not about online courses, as with all major posts in this blog, this is about me.

I have the attention span of a velociraptor-- If it aint moving, I dont move in for the kill.

It's weird actually, I need to keep my brain occupied doing many different things at the same time.

Just check my desktop right now: There's my email, YM, the company instant messenger, three lotus 123s, six notepads, four MS Words and lots of IE browsers open. Add to that, texting with my two celphones and talking with people on my landline, you pretty much have an idea of how messed up my brain is.

Is this normal?

Apparently it is.

For nerds, at least.

There is a need for some people to multitask many things at the same time. Some can eat popcorn while watching TV, while reading a book while texting with their free hand. Some can switch between talking using different languages and chatting between multiple chatsites at the same time. And some can keep multiple GFs, gimmick buddies and "special friends" all at once.

This is a phenomenon (except maybe for the last example) a certain blogger calls Nerd Attention Deficiency Disorder or NADD. Drop by his site for a good read on this subject.

Anyway, stop reading this post right now.

Look at your desktop.

How many tasks are you working on besides reading this weblog? 10? 15? More than 20?

Then you got NADD, my kindred geek-in-hiding. And I am not alone.

Anyways, back to the online courses.
I just figured out how to take three of em at the same time.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

In Defense of the Typical Male: Chapter I

Throughout my life as a Typical Male (as some man-haters would call me), there has been but one evil in the world that has made my spine chill faster than liquid nitrogen.

Nope, its not an oncoming car thats seconds away from slamming into me. Nope its not a rampaging horde of howling, drooling, rabid dogs running towards me. And nope, not even a knife-wielding mugger that tried to swing at me.

The scariest scariest thing imaginable is to piss off a a woman who has PMS written all over her.

PMS is a combination of physical and emotional symptoms that occurs premenstrually and is absent the rest of the menstrual cycle, severe enough to significantly interfere with work or home activities. --- Random Google Search

In other words: It is what turns the nicest most docile ladies into the most evil slandering murderous bitches you ever known.

And woe to us males because no girl is immune to this effect.


Which brings me to the question...

What then is the male version of PMS?

Testosterone, my dear Watson. Testosterone.

This is the hormone that makes us connect to our bloodthirsty barbaric past. This allows us to transform from mild-mannered reporters to death-defying supermen. It can cause us to twist our neck at every hint of cleavage, cause us to bring out our full wrath on every idiotic driver on the highway or reduce brain activity to a standstill whenever a beautiful girl blows us a kiss.

It makes us aggressive, irrational and deviously scheming human beings.

Yes. Testosterone is the male PMS. No doubt about it.

Except maybe for the headaches. These we create artificially by getting stupidly drunk on friday and saturday nights. But then Testosterone is almost always involved in these sessions...

So there.

Women have PMS every month. We have it every day of our lives.

If we take time to understand their PMS-related hellfire every so often each month, it is only fair that they forgive our every little testosterone-induced misdemeanour every day :)

Saturday, October 16, 2004

Life and Sounds

A few posts ago, I was blogging about some people I think have the material as modern day pinoy heroes. I heard about these folks sometime back and did some research on the net about what they really did.

Yesterday, my brother invited me to watch the Business Matters (an inspirational radio segment in 98.7) anniversary special Life and Sounds. The theme was to showcase the world-class excellence of Filipinos by speeches from various Pinoy achievers and performances from high caliber-artists (Did i mention that this was in direct conflict with the Jasmania concert's sched?).

Reading the agenda and invite, I was pleasantly surprised that Pat Evangelista, Josette Biyo and Butch Jimenez (exec producer for the movie Rizal) were part of the speakers lined up. Intrigued, I bought a ticket immediately.

It was the best decision I made this week.


Heres a run through of the event. (You will notice that I am NOT really a musical enthusiast)

After Francis Kong's (Business Matters founder and president) welcome address, where he laid out the goals of Business Matters, we were treated to eye candy from handiwork productions cool mime-hands. Then, the speakers were unleashed.

First, Kiko Pangilinan, one of the few senators I actually admired, took the center stage and spoke both as Majority floor leader AND as the husband of Megastar Sharon Cuneta. He talked about some of the problems in the government, the steps he believed could solve some of them (like the problems of the judiciary and the history of his bill), then zoomed in into his life as a father, a husband and a leader in the senate. Quite inspiring.

Raymund Lauchengco then treated us with a couple of great songs with his usual entertaining appeal.

Next to speak, was to me, quite a surprising revelation. Roselle Ambubuyog, the blind student of Ateneo who graduated Suma Cum Laude, is now heading a number of foundations for the blind while acting as a consultant for a US firm (also developing new products for the blind) and working on her MBA. She talked about her initial obstacles after losing her sight, using a messed up Rubix cube (with stickers with Braille symbols so she knows the color of each square) and its messed up mosaic of colors symbolizing her life.

She was a very entertaining speaker, talking about her anecdotes in Ateneo where the other students were stupefied as to how to treat her (for example a typical "See ya tomorrow!" caused many a student to backtrack on their words. which she replies: "Its ok. Better than Feel you tomorrow?") or how she wanted to prove to everyone that a blind person, given the right resources, could do as well as or even outperform a person without disabilities (Ateneo even provided her with a Braille printer to allow her to scan any 2D image and print it as a Braille version to help her visualize complex diagrams)

At the end of her speech, she proudly showed the fully completed the Rubix cube which she solved while speaking (Figuring out one side is a task itself... But solving the whole damn cube with your eyes closed, feeling it up one square at a time, memorizing the position of each, moving the whole cube AND talking to an engrossed audience at the same time was really a feat of sheer mental strength!) and used it as an example on how we can fix up our life if we try hard enough.

The next speaker was Patricia Evangelista, a pretty debating great that was thrust into the limelight when she won an international speaking competition with her "Blond hair, blue eyes" speech in England (yeah. Beating the English in English in England. What an upset.).

I read the transcript of that speech before, but listening to it delivered in her charmingly engaging way, made it even better. She then called out a challenge to the youth of today, a generation "Why" with no Marcos, no World War, or any other definite evil to fight against, to rise up when the need arises. Very intelligent and witty girl. (Doesnt seem to check her email though.)

Robert Sena provided the intermission for the next few minutes, showing off his broadway skills and powerful voice.

Butch Jimenez came up next with a rehash of his famous address to the 2003 graduating class of UP. Like Pat's speech, I read the transcript from the web before, but apparently the one circulating thru the internet, unlike Pat's speech, was but a shortened version of the original. (Apparently, Butch performs extemporaneously and used only an outline of his speech when he first delivered it. However, due to the popular demand, he sent out a shorter version of the speech.)

Last of course, was the star of the show. Or in this case, a planet. Dr. Josette Biyo, the next speaker, is a PhD who selflessly teaches highschool biology in the rural school of PSHS Iloilo and is the first filipina who ever had a planet named after her. (Planet biyo was once one of the moons encircling Jupiter. The nerds at MIT decided it was a minor planet, and inspired by Dr. Biyo, named it after her.)

Charming, eloquent and impressive, Dr. Biyo took us all captive when she presented the ideas she gave life in her 8 year teaching stint in Iloilo. After finishing her PhD in DLSU, instead of hooking up with research institutes abroad, she decided to go back to her roots and use her training and experience to uplift the rural educational system.

Lacking the proper equipment and perpetually short on funds for books and computers, she radically transformed the teaching paradigms of PSHS Iloilo by employing more hands-on trainings, fieldtrips to the nearby forests and even sent off promising students to have mini-practicums with scientific agencies she used to work with. She also spearheaded "teach the teacher" efforts and gave free lessons to rural schoolteachers all over the country.

Her efforts were quietly making ripples in the stagnant pool of Philippine education, and soon the world noticed. Now, she is a multi-awarded and internationally acclaimed teacher who travels from country to country spreading hope to those who choose to make a career out of the most noblest of professions.

Her message was simple actually. Reach for the stars, and if you try hard enough, you might even get a planet.

Finally, Francis Kong closed the evening with a simple message.* Irregardless of the gloom of the government or the shadows surrounding our economy, we need not be afraid of the darkness because there are people out there, like Dr. Biyo or Butch Jimenez, striving hard and leading by example to keep that tiny flicker of hope alive.

Can we not do our part to fan these flames by living our lives as excellently as well?

*not exactly what Francis said

Friday, October 15, 2004

Writer's Blog

I once wrote this in a previous post... funny how the posts of the past come back and haunt you sometimes.

Paradox of the Writer's Blog:
When possessed with the sudden urge to make your literary masterpiece, your writing skills will desert you... but not enough NOT to have a blog entry

Corollary: When you want to have a great blog entry, all you can come up with is a one-liner, a song excerpt, a stupid "I am a...." quiz or one of your previous works which no-one ever read.

The past week, I have definitely had Writer's Blog.

The feeling's difficult to describe. If I were an athlete instead of a blogger, it would probably be a bit close to polejumping with a lead weight around your neck or playing basketball right after swimming for six hours. Or like playing billiards with a rope instead of a cue-stick or eating polvoron with chopsticks. Definitely a bad thing for any writer.

What causes it? I have no idea. Maybe stress? Fatigue? Wayward braincells on AWOL? A lack of divine inspiration? Or maybe a sudden drought of creative juices?

Whatever the reason, each word I've placed in each of the past few posts is a painstaking effort and more often than not, I end up staring indefinitely at the blank screen of my blogger.

Luckily, Oktoberfest, that beautiful tradition that celebrates God's greatest gift to mankind, will be upon me tonight. That should take care of all the stress and fatigue and the alcohol going directly to the brain should be enough to replace any lost creative juices :)


Random thought:

Women have it all. First, they have all these great holidays like Mother's Day, Valentine's Day and force us to remember all these other annivs, monthnivs, weeknivs and even daynivs. Then they have a 3-month maternity leave every year. Now, that crackpot senator Miriam's pushing for a one-day a month "PMS leave" for each and every female employee.

And they say its a man's world?

If it were up to me, we'd have a mandatory month-long Oktoberfest leave every year and get a "alcoholically-wasted day" leave every month :)

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Tomatoes, Tomahtoes

When is something not something?

Would a sculptor be insulted if you classified his work as dried mud?

Would a wine connoisseur get mad if you served him warm table wine?

Would Aladdin trade his dusty old lamp for a shiny new one?

One man's junk is another man's treasure they say.

But for now, one of my biggest treasure's this blog. No question about it. I know why I blog and thats enough to explain why I love my blog so much.

Funny how two popular pinoy online sites are virtually slugging it out on how to define what a blog is though.

One claims that blogs are online avatars of each person's individuality. It is here that we offer our voices to the world, here in the internet where the last true freedom exists. It is a reflection of everything we stand for, and thus must never be stained by corporate bias nor censored by mainstream media.

The other claims they can define the blog as they want to. Screw the comment sections, screw the trackbacks, screw the damn technicalities of what a blog is all about. They will blaze thru the constraints of old ideas to reach out to new frontiers. They will dare to tap the collective intelligence of the pinoy online populace, squeeze out the ideas of the best and the brightest, and use it as the future creative juices of journalism.

Looking through these sites and some others linked to them, fiery posts have sprung left and right about these two ideas. All this, over the difference between a blog and a "blog", the infighting between to potentially great pinoy online sites continues... (thus is the story of all great pinoy ideas)

Who, then, should be believed?

Frankly, I dont give a damn. Let them slash it out between them. All's fair in blog and war.

If I were them, though, I'd remember what happened when a street punk tried to intimidate Crocodile Dundee with a fan knife--- The punk got shown what a knife really is.

So to those two popular pinoy online sites:

Just shut up and show us what REAL BLOGGING's all about.


Okay... so shut up is a bit too strong a word :) But you get what I mean :)

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

The safety's off

I think its the kender in me.

Last week saw me having a cold from monday to friday, forcing me to try to sleep earlier and try waking later.

Last weekend saw me in complete bedrest, raking in a decade high of almost 40 hours total naptime over the whole weekend and watching the world go around me (via a 29' TV in front of me and the laptop at my side) during the waking hours.

(As strange as it seems, when Im strangely subdued, I cant seem to write. Having done nothing idiotic within a 24-hour timeframe because of bedrest is not conducive to blog-posting.)

Last night packing up from work as soon as the clock struck five and hitting the sack as soon as i got home.

Enough is enough.

I dont care if im still sick. Im so bored, I HAVE to do something.

So tonight I played basketball. For two hours.

Nothing like a great workout to pump up all the adrenaline that will kill the evil viruses right?

Or was it white blood cells that kill the viruses?

Ahh hell. A good shot of alcohol should be enough to quench the curiosity :)

Will blog again in the morning.

If I can still stand up.

Friday, October 08, 2004

Rewarding Mediocrity

This year earmarks probably the biggest number of pseudo-heroes and heroines our country has ever had.

Every month, it never ceases to amaze me at how proud we are of people who put up a fight, stumble, try to stand up and be content to merely survive. Or at how we welcome home with royal carpets and fancy praises, Pinoys who make it to finals, or even semifinals, but deliberately forgetting that there was a gold that eluded them somehow.

It never ceases to amaze me at how we reward mediocrity so much.

Who can forget the Hero we call Angelo dela Cruz, whose only claim to fame was to plead for his life before a camera? (I believe he now has a house and lot as well as scholarships for his children.) Or Manny pacquiao who started out strong in the fight of his life, but lost steam towards the end?

We watched our athletes slug it out in the Olympics and cheer them on even as they return limping back to our land. We supported Jasmine trias with our texts and votes even though we knew she was no LaToya, Fantasia or even william hung (and when she returned here, look at all the money shes raking in.)

At the end of the day we tell ourselves that they could have made it. That it was merely luck that caused them to fall-- a blistered foot off a cheap sock, a broken shin from a wayward kick, or even a gust of wind that caused the arrow to miss. It is always Malas.

Or dinaya. There are always the biased sons-of-bitches-of-judges who gave a six instead of a 7, or racist americans voting for their own kind. Yes, we are always the victims, arent we?

And of course, they are OUR heroes.

But who are we kidding? There is no misfortune in these contests, only stumbling blocks. And our heroes used them as excuses not to strive further. In contrast, the real winners having trained too long and too hard for the prize, have honed their talents to perfection and refused to allow these molehills to stop their drive for the prize.

Our heroes fall because they have feet of clay, and yet, are seen as gods only because we allow them to be immortalized as gods. Ironic isn't it? The new media of immortality is no longer monuments or history books. Its is TV, cinema, DVDs and the billboards of EDSA. It is here that we, whether we like it or not, shape who our heroes are.

And it gets worse.

We have telenovelas based on the "success stories" of nubile young girls who bared it all and became famous. We encourage crassness in our films, call it art and give the best acting awards to those that show the most flesh in the most alluring way. We sell inane records, such as Ocho Ocho and Ispageti, like hotcakes because we encourage half-baked ideas. Worst of all, we tolerate idiotic noontimes shows as potential fieldtrip venues for our public school students.

These will be the basis of heroes of the next generation.

But for now, our normal folks strive to be the flawed heroes of today. For now, we call our OFWs heroes because of the money they bring in, forgetting that parentless, directionless and probably spoiled children are the price they paid for their income. For now, we glorify the nurses, the truck drivers, the pinoys who merely survive in foreign lands, ignoring the fact that they slowly become less and less pinoy, and encourage everyone else to assume pinoys are always second class citizens. Unfortunately, our everyday heroes just dont dream big enough.

The sad truth is, that when we dont have the right heroes, we will never have the right dreams. Without the right dreams, we will never challenge the mountains blocking our way, but bellyache instead at the molehills that trip us.

Without the right heroes to free us, we will forever be chained in mediocrity.

Is it hopeless then? Is this downward spiralling of our basis for heroism truly the trend?

I think not. I hope not.

Ironically, with every misfortune that befalls me, I am reminded that there are still true heroes out there. Heroes probably making nothing but ripples to the media, but heroes nonetheless.

There are the good-hearted pinoys who go out of their way who help kickstart my car's dead battery or offer me a ride when I lose my way. Kind strangers who picked up my lost phones and returned it to me without asking for anything in return. An honest waitress who stumbled upon an errant wallet and refused the reward I left in her hands.

There are but the everyday heroes who show us that honest good folk still roam our lands. Pinoys who will pull us up when we fall and encourage us on the choices we must make. We have heroes amongst us who stand up when we need them to.

We are never short of the common tao with the makings of a hero. But why can't they dream as heroes dream?

Then again, there are the heroes that are larger than life. Then again, there are Filipinos that make us proud to be Filipino just because we need to be proud of being Filipino. Then again, there are the Filipinos who stand up just because we need to have someone to look up to. Then again, there are the Filipinos who ensure that we shall never lack of heroes.

They are out there. But the media shoves them away from the spotlight.

Were there billboards of teenage sensation Patricia Evangelista along EDSA? Have there been stories and films based on the award winning "Blonde and Blue Eyes" speech she delivered before an amazed international audience? Where, oh where, is the proof which shows that she made a difference?

Who knows what has now happened to the only Filipina who had a planet named after her? Does anyone know what Dra. Josette Biyo, the Internationally acclaimed educator extraordinaire of Philippine Science Iloilo, namesake of the minor Planet Biyo and humble public servant, is doing right now? Has anyone even voluteered to play her role in a weekly telenovela? Is there even a picture of the said planet being circulated?

Does anyone in Quiapo, probably the masa's biggest source of culture, even pirate the award winning film, "Rizal"? Are there peddlers who sell legacies of Lino Brocka, our most celebrated director? Who has been mass-producing the DVDs of WengWeng, the James Bond of pinoy past?
We never made movies about the rise and fall of the great Marcos Dynasty. We never made quality productions of Corregidor and Bataan in the Silver Screen. We never did learn much from the heroes of history because we never immortalized them enough.

What then should we do to find pride in our heritage? Rizal waited a hundred years to have his legacy of a movie. Are we to force the heroes of our past and present to waste away in historical limbo as well?

We need our media to focus on more of our real heroes. We need to encourage the Pinoy Greats of our age to raise the bar and try once more to prove our lineage right. We need to point the spotlight once again, from the false heroes of today to the ones truly deserving of the limelight so everyone can see what a true-blooded Pinoy can really do.

We can make our true heroes, true heroes. By simply remembering them as true heroes.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

The Quest for Rusticaville

Was cleaning up on some old YM conversations (i save the interesting ones from time to time).

I was pleasantly surprised to find a previously unpublished chronicling on one of Soloflite's legendary journeys.

--Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

The Lore_Master: Hmm... my story? Here goes...

The_Lore_Master: Once every year, at the eve of the first course card...

the_acolyte: (course cards. course cards, ahh!)

The_Lore_Master: the secret society known as TLS embarks on the sacred pilgrimage called The Teambuilding

The_Lore_Master: are you familiar with this tradition, young one?

the_acolyte: (i took a bath of flour in one. yes, i am familiar. go on, please.)

The_Lore_Master: In any case... the site of this particular story is the Great Baguio TLS escape known as... "Rusticaville"

The_Lore_Master: yes. i will not go into the hidden details on what happens in "the Teambuilding" but rather, the brave quest of the one known as Soloflite as he tries to find the secret path to Rusticaville

the_acolyte: (soloflite was left behind?)

The_Lore_Master: That year, the TLS team scheduled to go to Rusticaville via bus in one large group.

The_Lore_Master: ...but horror of horrors, another ancient tradition, called The Practicum pulled Soloflite back and allowed him only TWO of the FIVE days of alcoholic teambuilding

The_Lore_Master: so, on the Thursday morning, the majority of the TLS left by Bus towards baguio...

The_Lore_Master: ...leaving soloflite with a map. And with another TLS member who knows the secret path to Rusticaville

The_Lore_Master: And so that thursday morning, soloflite slaved with his practicum...

The_Lore_Master: ...and continued until the sun had set on the friday of that week...

The_Lore_Master: The Other, ancient TLS staffer who knew the path to rusticaville... we shall call The Rhapper

the_acolyte: (The Rhapper, heh)

The_Lore_Master: friday evening, the one known as The Rhapper calls up Soloflite... and asks that they meet at the bus terminal in Pasig.

The_Lore_Master: Soloflite arrives early in PASAY and awaits The Rhapper

the_acolyte: (OMG!)

The_Lore_Master: ahh yes

the_acolyte: (hahaha)

The_Lore_Master: and remember, texting was not yet in the vogue during that time...

The_Lore_Master: and all communication between the two from thereon... was thru PAGERS. these little unreliable predecessors of modern texting.

the_acolyte: (pagers, heh)

The_Lore_Master: ahhh.... until now, nobody knows who made the mistake... The Rhapper telling the wrong terminal, Soloflite remembering the wrong place... or the idiot in between who texted the wrong message

The_Lore_Master: in any case, Soloflite realizes that The Rhapper is in the OTHER terminal. hence, he just pages The Rhapper... "Its ok. lets meet in Baguio. I'll get on this bus now."

The_Lore_Master: this is around 10pm of the friday after the eve of 1st coursecard...

The_Lore_Master: luckily, Soloflite brought a cellphone. And so he opens his bag to call the other TLS friends just in case...

the_acolyte: (lucky cellphone)

The_Lore_Master: ...and realizes that he left the cellphone (big hulking mass of black) in the terminal.

The_Lore_Master: Along with the

the_acolyte: (OMG!! - again)

The_Lore_Master: ahh yes... where was I?

The_Lore_Master: Soloflite then realizing the situation... also realizes the Idioticity of his last text... as baguio is apparently larger than Megamall...

the_acolyte: ....!

The_Lore_Master: and did i mention that the hero, Soloflite was standing up? Because he only decided to get the tickets that evening

The_Lore_Master: ...and oh, that the trip to baguio is 8 hours?

The_Lore_Master: ...and even more if you have a flat tire?

the_acolyte: (i think his last name is murphy. really.)

The_Lore_Master: ...and thus... our hero was left standing stupidly aware of every idiotic thing he did that day for the next TEN hours

The_Lore_Master: ...ahh, but fortune smiled on our hero that night. he was able to convince nearby passengers to use their phone to page his friend The Rhapper

the_acolyte: (charm comes handy every once in a while)

The_Lore_Master: ahh yes. Charm is very handy.

The_Lore_Master: and Soloflite was also able to call the cellphone he left in the terminal, which was to his amazement, sent home by an anonymous stranger

The_Lore_Master: along with the map.

The_Lore_Master: anyways... going back...

The_Lore_Master: Soloflite transmitted the message to The Rhapper successfully... "Meet me at the FIRST stop in Baguio"

the_acolyte: (lucky for him)

The_Lore_Master: ...which would have worked...

The_Lore_Master: had not the bus been delayed by around 2-3 hours

The_Lore_Master: by the time Soloflite arrived at the FIRST terminal, he had no way of knowing
if The Rhapper had indeed been there already...

The_Lore_Master: Hold on. Brb.

The_Lore_Master: where was I?

The_Lore_Master: oh yes... Soloflite's charms are still to be used my friend... :D

the_acolyte: (soloflite and The Rhapper's star-crossed meeting)

the_acolyte: (go on)

The_Lore_Master: Soloflite, realizes that The Rhapper has either gone on without him, or have waited then gave up...

The_Lore_Master: he goes on a quest to find the mythical path to Rusticaville himself...

The_Lore_Master: and so... lugging around his numerous bags and other stuff... he goes to the nearest taxi driver...

The_Lore_Master: "Bossing, alam nyo po yung Rusticaville?"

the_acolyte: (aww. a solitary journey. solo flight, indeed.)

The_Lore_Master: "...rustika...bil"

The_Lore_Master: Soloflite groans inwardly. but it WAS close enough...

The_Lore_Master: "Opo. rustikabil... alam nyo yun?"

The_Lore_Master: "A... oo alam ko yun... sa may.... saan nga ba yan?"

The_Lore_Master: "Ser. ndi ko po sigurado tlaga"

The_Lore_Master: "Alam ko na yan! nakita ko yung bandera nyan!" Later our hero will realize that Rusticaville is just a big house that gets rent out every once in a while... and no banners

The_Lore_Master: But. Soloflite's danger sense is still wary...

The_Lore_Master: "Boss... kung sigurado kayo, sabay ako sa inyo..."

The_Lore_Master: "...dahil kung hindi, tapos iikot lang po tayo... " Our hero applies his Charm Monster Special ability... "...wala po ako pambayad pabalik"

The_Lore_Master: "Sigurado ako!!! Malapit lang yan. Pag ndi natin mahanap.. ibabalik kita!"

the_acolyte: (naks.)

The_Lore_Master: The Charm Monster ability does not seem to work on pretty girls though... going back...

The_Lore_Master: ...and thus, for the next 30 minutes, Soloflite is given a free joyride around baguio looking for the wild goose chase that was Rusticaville...

the_acolyte: (hehe)

The_Lore_Master: ...30 minutes later. Soloflite is back at the terminal, and apologizing profusely to the driver who shakes his head and drives away.

The_Lore_Master: ...our devious hero THEN does the same thing to the next TWO taxi drivers...

the_acolyte: (it's a good thing he didn't get lynched)

The_Lore_Master: It is a mystery indeed... until now, the Baguio taxi drivers still speak of the
freeloading ghost of Rusticaville in hushed tones...

The_Lore_Master: anyway, after 3 tries with taxis, our hero realizes that he needs to find a
different way to find it.

the_acolyte: (freeloading ghost of rusticaville. haha.)

The_Lore_Master: so he goes to to the town proper and finds the nearest telephone and sends yet another pager message to a TLS friend

The_Lore_Master: "Im in baguio. Im lost. Help"

The_Lore_Master: luck would have it, this TLS friend DID NOT join the alcoholic exercise in baguio and was, in actuality... in MANILA

The_Lore_Master: let us call him... the Crusader

The_Lore_Master: the Crusader, in parallel, realizes our hero's dillemma and calls up the folks in
Rusticaville... here is their conversation...

The_Lore_Master: "....ugh... Crusader, we all have major hangovers... what the hell are u calling about?"

The_Lore_Master: "Soloflite is in baguio... he's lost. he doesnt know where you are."

The_Lore_Master: "...ughh... ok. click"

The_Lore_Master: I kid you not, That was how it happened...

The_Lore_Master: in the meantime, Soloflite is scouring the bagiuo telephone branches looking vainly for an entry called "Rusticaville". Again, there is no real Rusticaville... as it is only a home rented and marketed as rusticaville in manila

The_Lore_Master: after 1 hr and feeling a bit tired of slugging around twenty pounds of belongings, soloflite decides to go to... the post office

The_Lore_Master: in the meantime, the TLS folks have recovered from their hangover...

The_Lore_Master: "Who were u talking to this morning?"

The_Lore_Master: "Oh... The Crusader... ummm... something urgent i think"

The_Lore_Master: "Ahh i remember now! Soloflite's lost!!!"

The_Lore_Master: The TLS people look at each other...

The_Lore_Master: and come up with their unanimous response...

The_Lore_Master: "Poor baguio."

The_Lore_Master: Back to the teambuilding...

the_acolyte: (haha)

The_Lore_Master: In the meantime, The post office, Soloflite realizes... is closed on Saturdays... hence he then hikes towards... The police station

The_Lore_Master: ...At the police station, Soloflite explains his story. As usual, nobody has ever heard of Rusticaville...

The_Lore_Master: so Soloflite looks for a map of baguio and points towards the area to where he believes rusticaville is (he did see the map remember?)

The_Lore_Master: And again... the police officers tell him... there is NO Rusticaville there.

The_Lore_Master: Soloflite even calls up the individual police outposts in the area... and still no Rusticaville

The_Lore_Master: finally, our hero, dejected decides to return to Manila and record his first REAL failure in life...

The_Lore_Master: ...and as he walks towards the bus station... an idea comes into mind which re-energizes him in a mad dash BACK to the police station...

The_Lore_Master: ...Soloflite then CALLS the most logical police outpost (Based on the police map, the map given to him and of course his uncanny luck)... and asks... "May malaking bus ba na nakapark dyan?"

The_Lore_Master: ...and yes there is! "May sticker ng ....? Paki-kausap ng driver?"

The_Lore_Master: And the police, charmed as well by our swashbuckling hero DRIVE him towards the place known as ... RUSTICAVILLE

The_Lore_Master: ...THE END...

The_Lore_Master: methinks there really is an angel xero and a demon murphy :D

the_acolyte: methinks you're right. :D

The_Lore_Master: helluva sparring match between them eh? :D

the_acolyte: helluva, yeah. :p

the_acolyte: oh hey. got to fly.

The_Lore_Master: ok. bye

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

A Sick Post

I hate the common cold.

It is too easy to catch, too easy to spread, and just damn hard to get rid of.

Its bad enough to cloud your thinking, but too weak as an excuse for getting the day off.

It shows in your eyes, clutters up your coordination, burns your throat and nose, messes up your tastebuds and makes em other body parts hurt all over.

It is the body's version of Murphy's Law.

And worse: Theres nothing you can do about it.

Pills, potions, chicken soup, hot tea, lizard tails... nothing, nothing has ever worked for me. The common cold is devious enough to make you feel all wobbly the whole day, while making sure that the runny nose gets you an indecent night's sleep.

It is the most sick of the human sicknesses.

With other diseases, like Cancer, at least you know that you just gotta zap up a few body parts to lead a normal life again. Appendicitis just needs you to cut up a little organ before it explodes, while sprains or broken bones just need you to cast up or amputate the damn leg.

The common cold on the other hand, makes you ponder as to what other disease you would rather have, or when you should start playing Russian Roulette.

Simply evil.

Someday, I'll find a cure for this bug called the common cold.

Or just legalize the use of it as an excuse not to go to work.


Pardon the unusual rant.

I'm sick.

Well, yeah, I guess you knew that already.

Thursday, September 30, 2004

the blogger known as Soloflite

A couple of blogger friends of mine Cat and Denise were on the air recently, in a local radio talk show. While they talked about blogging, bloggers, blogaholia, and shamelessly plugged their sites (and forgot about poor little old me), it got me thinking -

Why Exactly do I blog?

It's actually been on my mind for the longest time. I once wrote a post about why I blog , but squeezing out my brain cells out of its creative juices is just part of the reason. Now that Im thinking about it, I guess there are a lot of other hidden motives out there.

Some bloggers have certain ideas about why I blog worth mentioning. Shiksagoddess said im just damn Narcissistic. Sealdi told me I was Schizophrenic. Everyone else tells me im simply crazy.

Not true of course.
Its a complicated kind of crazy.

I once told Sarah that I blog not for money, not for fame but for the simple reason that I have been so repressed as a writer that I wanted an avenue to practice my real writing. For money and fame later on of course.

I shared to Joy that I write impulsively, hacking away at the keyboard on every little idea that comes into mind, slowly forming a coherent post in notepad long before my brain can keep up. It is a unknown urge, this thing which drives me to write. Sometimes it hits me when im buzzed, half asleep or even drunk, but always, always finds a way to get the post done. And thus, the brain has no choice but to follow what the body demands.

Another Joy (yes, there are a lot of joys in blogging) , was surprised at how defensive I was when she called my blog an online diary. Again, It's NOT A DIARY. It's a web LOG. Theres a difference.

So what is it then?

What is this blog if I dont post about my lovelife? Or my social life? Or even the nature of my work? Heck, I don't even let out my last name here.

Maybe the chat with Denise cleared it up: Blogging just lets me give in to that most basic of human needs, A need to reaffirm your existence. An irresistable urge to express yourself and to share your thoughts to the world. And more imporantly, without impunity.

Thus I seek to express myself in ways I cannot in my life as a lowly mortal.

In real life, I am but one of the billions of humans who walked in this planet, flawed, obscure and forever compared to the giants of Jose Rizal, Leonardo Da Vinci or Miyamoto Musashi. I could probably never be as rich as Bill Gates, or as famous as Tom Cruise. I could probably never be as smart as Einstein or as damn goodlooking as David Beckham. In real life, I am but one small person. I am but still insignificant.

But in my blog, it is different. In my blog, I happily bastardize Saddam Hussein to his face, make a mockery of Gloria Macapagal Arroyo or even change the idiocities of the present . In my blog, angels and demons watch over me, Love is but an answer away, and Death is but a dream. My blog is my own world and in this world, I am God.

But then again, even God craves attention.

If eyes are the windows to the soul, Blogs are surely at least peepholes. Thru my blog, I share the pictures that make me smile, and joke about the tiny little mishap that could have killed me long before. I talk about the misadventures or inanities in my past which looking back, have shaped me in what I have become. I cry in frustration at the haplessness of things that have been done or raise my fist to the promise of the future. Because for some unknown, inexplicable way, I need to bare my soul.

This is why I must blog.

Saturday, September 25, 2004

A Break from the Grind

A bloodcurdling scream rocked across the hallways.

"So it begins." The female figure glanced at her watch. Right on schedule. More screams and moans echoed continiously. Ever since The Guy In The Red Suit took over the management of the Inferno, it had really been hard work for all of her fellow demons.

But it was fun.

The Boss was definitely devious. Murphy smiled as she recalled the number of new programs and tortures over the last few years. Why, morale among the denizens of the Inferno was so high that even the demons of Sloth appeared to be working more hours.

She continued on and paused as she went between the fiery pillars symbolizing the entrance to the gargantuan Infernal Torture chamber. How long has it been since she last went here, she wondered? Here, billions of souls got their daily treatment from the sadistically perky demons of torture. Racks, Vises, chinese finger traps and contraptions of every possible kind were here to inflict maximum pain upon the torturees.

"Hey Murphy!" A demon holding a pair of morning stars called out to her. "If you're looking for The Boss, he's near the new area!"

"Be right there!" She shouted back. Damn, she missed doing the torturing. Before her current role as a demon agent, she used to be the most creative of the lot here. Then he came and assigned her to deal with the humans outside of hell.

Her latest missions have been mainly sowing confusion, misfortune and doubt. None of the usual death, pain and suffering. She was getting bored. She missed thinking up tortures... well, there is Him though...

Murphy glanced around. The "new area" was the Boss's experiment. Bored with the medieval ways used since time immemorial, he set up a series of modern torture devices such as electric showers, anal probes and TVs which played reruns of Teletubbies indefinitely.

There was also a new treadmill, Murphy noticed. On it, a poor sap wearing mismatched high heels was trying desperately to jog at full speed. Behind him, just a bit behind the treadmill, was a bespectacled middle-aged man holding a whip and happily flaying away at the tortured soul's back.

"Murphy!" The Guy in the Red Suit called out to her.

"Whos that?" asked Murphy as she approached her boss. Resplendent in Red, he seemed absolutely alive today. Nothing like an optimistic demon thinking up punishments for everyone who deserves em.

"Oh.. thats the ex-President of the Philippines, Ferdinand Marcos." answered The Boss.

"Hmmm..." Murphy furrowed her brow. "I cant quite get the punishment..."

"I had fun with this one. He gets to jog 10 miles in each of Imelda's shoes..." At this he waves his hand and a vision of thousands of high heels shimmers in front of Murphy.

"Hahaha! I'd bet he's really rueing each day he bought her stilettos right now." The Guy in the Red Suit waves his hand again and the image disappears.

Murphy held back a smirk. She seriously missed being part of infernal affairs. "...and the other guy? He doesnt look like he's part of hell. An honorary demon?"

"No, no. That's Ninoy Aquino."

"The Filipino Hero?! They guy who triggered the EDSA Revolution? What's he doing here?"

"Its something me and the Guy up there thought of actually. We're trying out a new exchange denizen program. Some of his blokes get a few months here to get their sweet revenge on their archnemesis, while some of our guys I send up there to watch at how much fun they're missing. At the end of the program, his folks go back happy, and mine go back more miserable."

"Ingenious..." Murphy whistled. Why hadn't she ever thought of that before?

"Precisely." The Guy In the Red Suit chuckled with glee. "Anyway, I summoned you here because he reminded me of something."

"Which is?"

"The Project"

Murphy repressed a shudder. "Oh... you mean... Him?" Of course he meant HIM. What else had been taking up her time the past few months?

"Yes. How is it going?"

"Er, fine I guess. Can't seem to kill him, so the next best thing is to make life miserable." It would have been more fun IF that angel of his didnt mess her plans every now and then.

"Well, we have a truce from up there." The Guy in the Red Suit looked at her in the eye. "Stay AWAY from him for a week. Give him his birthday off."

"Ah of course. Is it that time of the year already?" Murphy made a mental calculation. "And what do you suppose I do in the meantime? I got like 40% of my time freed up."

Good question, The Guy in the Red Suit thought. "How about some other bloggers? Go check his Blogyard or the ones who just dropped by his site. Yeah. have fun with them."

With that, Murphy smirked from ear to ear and set out on her new mission. She will definitely make sure she haves fun.


Wednesday, September 22, 2004

Memories of an Idiot II

So whats the difference between stupidity and genius?
Genius has its limits.

Join me once again I dare to look upon the world and weep at the triumph of human stupidity. This time I step aside and leave other people to play the part of the hapless imbecile...


Stupid Email:
I needed a partner of ours to send a very sensitive email to a customer of ours.
I asked her to send it very discreetly.
She did it to the letter.

The subject said "Discreet Email" and was sent to every person who should never have been copied.

Ugh. Nothing could have been more conspicuous.
*exact words have been changed, but you get the point


Quail Eggs:
I asked a maid of ours to help out with making instant soup (yeah, this by itself should give you an idea at the level of stupidity involved)
More specifically, I asked her to add Quail eggs for extra chunkiness.
I then left to do some other chores.

I came back 5 minutes later and saw her scrambling each and every quail egg...

insert *soloflite_slapping_his_head.jpg*


The Cute Lil Bonsai:

I thought that Bonsais were always ittybitty lil plants in miniature flowerpots.
That is, until I realized that Bonsai basically meant anything that can be described as a potted tree.

One day, I drove to an uncle's party with a gift from my mom: A beautiful bonsai.
I asked a couple of waiters for help and explained the situation.
The first guy I talked to said "Bonsai lang pala e! Kayang kaya ko yan!*" confidently and waved away his partner.
(*Bah! Bonsai?! I can do it myself. I dont need extra help)

I chose to keep my mouth shut and my smile well checked as I led him to the van.

He nearly fainted with shock when I opened the back and showed him the 5 foot tall, 200 pound BONSAI inside.


Drunk on Low Tide

While partying in a beach, one drunken friend started shouting "Night Swimming tayo!!!" and started taking off his shirt and going to the nearest balcony overlooking the sea.
He then dived.

Unfortunately it was 12 hours since high tide when he did, and that the water that should have greeted him was being pulled off to the other side of the earth.

He hit the rocky beach and was lucky to get off with a few major scratches, some minor lacerations, but try as we might, none of his pride was salvaged.


Fried Rice

A couple of friends of mine once arrived too late for an overnight party.
Too late that everyone was already asleep and everything was already cleaned up.

But since they were so hungry they decided to raid the fridge and see whatever was in there.

Guy 1: "Woooww!!! Fried rice!!!"
Guy 2: "Mmmm... u sure? Looks a bit weird"
Guy 1: Nibbles on the rice. "Seems good to me"
Guy 2: "Whatever you say dude."

They finished the rice and then slept.

That morning our caretaker was scratching his head and going "Who ate my poor Bruno's food?" be continued... thinkpad on low batt :)

Monday, September 20, 2004

On the lighter side of the Ateneo Loss...

Looks like king Larry's been wanting to do this for a long time...

...and theres something very very suspicious about that smile...


Sunday, September 19, 2004

Peaking too early

When UE exposed the Blue Eagle's weakness in their second game against each other this year, it triggered the end of the Ateneo Championship dream...
...and the start of their nightmares.

Because as soon as the winning streak ended, the rest of the league found themselves realizing two things about the Hail Mary team :
First: Ateneo won by an average of 2-3 points of victory. Not really a clear victory especially if the other team led the rest of the game.
Second: Therefore... It was mainly luck (yes, what other team has a Mascot like Larry Fonacier?) And luck was something that couldnt carry them through the Final Four

So, yes, they won their first seven games...

But then they didnt adjust to the loss of Larry Fonacier and even became overconfident in LA Tenorio's clutch baskets, JC Intal's third quarter blitz and even the endgame jitters that plagued all the other teams. In the end, the Blue Eagles just made the horrible mistake in complacence of thinking that the other teams in the league would just roll over and die.

The next half proved disastrous as the other teams ganged up on Ateneo... giving them a 3-6 (including the final four) scorecard, causing them to lose the #1 spot to FEU, then the #2 slot to DLSU. And now, losing the chance for another championship bid altogether.

On the other hand, another team was going through a nightmare at the start of UAAP season 67. La Salle had nothing going from them in the first half- a heart-wrenching loss to ateneo for its first game, a first-in-28-games loss to Adamson and a shakey 4-3 scorecard at the end of its first seven games.

Rumors of head coach Franz Pumaren resigning or getting fired abounded. TY tang, the main pointguard was severely and unfairly criticized for not stepping up as the next Mike Cortez (duh. get over it. Mike is gone.) JV Casio, touted as the next RenRen Ritualo (More Lasalista dreams) wasn't scoring as heavily as they initially thought and lastly, the absence of a legitimate Center punctuated the La Salle Nightmare.

Then the Archers adjusted.

TY Tang and the rest of the boys shaped up. The Big Men of La Salle started to make their presense felt in the next few games. Mac Cardona, their biggest source of firepower, dropped his bwakaw ways and started acting as a real leader on the court. Suddenly, though Mike Cortez and RenRen will never play for them again, The Archers became a team to beat once more.

Starting with a 28-point manhandling of the NU Bulldogs, La Salle never looked back. Franz Pumaren found his mojo and with the rest of the team started on what eventually became an amazing 8-game winning streak (and still winning.)

And whereas the ateneo winning streak was characterized by trailing behind their opponents in the first half, peaking at the third canto and finally finishing strong at the endgame, the DLSU style of victory was a powerful show of force in the first half and losing steam little by little in the final minutes for a double-digit win over their opponents.

However, as the wins piled up, the Archers slowly regained their championship poise. Guns that blazed in the first half kept firing until the final minutes of the game. The Archers made sure there was to be no more endgame collapse.

Thus was the story in last couple of Ateneo games.

When Mac Cardona, as his first two points of the game, slammed it in the face of a cheering Ateneo Crowd, his message was clear -- We do not fear Ateneo. We will smash your misplaced dreams of another championship stint. We will show you how to sustain an amazing winning streak. We will give you ONE BIG FIGHT.

And the rest was history. La Salle won its eighth straight game today and coerced Ateneo to give up its tickets to the UAAP championship with a 69-55 victory at the Big Dome. Gifted with an early set of defeats, the Archers are savoring the sweetest of victories now that they are peaking at the most perfect of times.

Animo La Salle!!!

Friday, September 17, 2004

FAQ. Why Cant I post?

Yes, I havent posted in a while.

Yes, I was busy.

Yes, it was work related.

Yes, the world turned around once more and poor Soloflite was not able to record the blog version of it.

Yes, Murphy came back with a vengeance these past few weeks and messed up each and every plan of mine.

Yes, I know -- "Murphy's Law happens to everyone"

Yes, there was another mishap involving airplanes, delayed flights and things being left in the airport of origin.

Yes, there was a freak elevator-shutting-down-while-you're-in-it incident again. Yes, I am claustrophobic.

Yes, there was another freak driving accident this week which totalled yet another part of my car and involving a drunken driver who smashed into the car in front of me before going my way.

Yes, the police were involved, but this time I came in peace.

Yes, of course I flashed them the universally accepted Vulcan peace sign before talking.

Yes, I admit there were lots of Divine interventions which saved me time and time again these past weeks.

Yes, I will send my guardian angel a letter of appreciation. Sometime.

Yes, I still follow the UAAP games and threw away a perfectly good chance to show my delightfully wicked glee and bash Ateneo for losing a potential twice-to-beat advantage and having them drop from number 1 to number 3 because of the Archers.

Yes, I didnt even post about their loss to FEU.

Yes, I have something in store for the Blue Eagle Fans on Sunday.

Yes, I didnt write about the sexy Maria Sharapova in her little dress and her losing the US Open to another muscle-clad amazon because she was upset about the Russia Hostage Crisis and how the Cassanova SoloFlite planned to console her.

Yes, that was supposed to be a very juicy post.

Yes, I was THAT busy to write such a juicy post.

So there. To the rest of the blogging world...

Yes, Im sorry.

Yes, I'll try to post sometime soon.

and Yes, I am aching to blog normally again.

Monday, September 13, 2004

Standing Up For My Left

"Lemme see your hand" A smug Gene Hackman once asked a smiling Leonardo di Caprio in The Quick and The Dead. "See. Those are farmer hands"

"These aint no farmer hands..." a slightly irritated Di Caprio replied.

Gene Hackman then pointed to his own and those of Russel Crowe's. "Now these. These are gunslingers hands."

He was right. For the rest of the movie, no matter how wretched or crappily-made the gun, Gene and Russel's specialized hands made sure that a split-second was all it took to get the gun out of the holster, shoot and blast the sucker in front of em.

More so with Russel Crowe's character, as that gunslinger's hand's instinctively did what a gunslingers hand's gotta do- shoot off bad guy after bad guy.

And when it came to the showdown between Gene's hands and Di Caprio's farmer hands... guess who won?

That movie made me realize how much one's hands could shape one's destiny. Great violinists, surgeons, artists and pianists all have equally great hands suited for their line of work. These great hands probably worked with a mind of their own, working at speeds, grace and coordination no conscious brain could probably match.

Indeed, hands like these could shape the destinies of those gifted with them.

Which brings me to my hands.

My hands have a mind of their own too. They just dont coordinate with each other.
They're so bad, they dont even get along with their own fingers! It's like a weird interknuckle rivalry or something.

Anyways, whereas most hands are graceful and artistic, mine are shakey and clumsy. This totally frustrated my artistic talent-- making it impossible for me to draw the perfect circle or even make smooth curves using my hands.

It made me give up a potential career as a surgeon, my conscience getting the better of me as i passed up med school to save the world from lacerated internal organs.

And worst of all, because of these hands, which could produce nothing but the worst of chickenscratches (another reason why i thought the medical life was for me) i almost never realized how fun it was to write. Luckily, PC's became popular and upped the ante in my personal vendetta against the signpen.

These are kender hands-- Irrepressible, irresponsible and partly kleptomaniac. Time and time again, i find my hands keep creeping up in places not meant to be crept. Too often i've found things in my pockets which i didnt even remember seeing before or squashing some poor creature that tried to get in its way... These are seriously demented hands.

In any case, I learned to live with these evil hands. Furthermore, years of watching them at it made me realize that the main reason for every bad thing that happens is because the left hand is jealous of the right.

You heard me right. The right always has the right to do what he wants and this makes the left hand feel left out.

Think about it: What hand do you write (using a pen) with? What hand do you pull the trigger with? What hand do you throw with?

On the other hand, what do you do with the left hand? It is used to ward off fearsome attackers that threaten you bodily harm. It is the sacrifice to the rabid dog that wants to bite off the artist's hand. It is the expendible one, and is awarded no honors, no dignity.

After years of putting up with this, the left hand tends to have an inferiority complex. He'll start to think little of his own strengths and capabilities and forgets all about his lefty-handed dreams. Soon, it will lose all hope and just resign itself to its fate as the Right Hand's right hand hand.

Well, normally.

In my case, my Left hand declared an all out war against the Right.

What the right hand can do, it can do just as well. So for the longest time, I can text with my left as fast as i can with my right. And i can write as badly with my left, as I can with my right.

You gotta hand it to it. My left hand is sure as hell standing up for its rights.

Last saturday, while playing badminton, the left hand was again dangling uselessly at my side... And soon, bored and consumed with wrathful envy, The LEft DEMANDED that it be allowed to use a racket as well (see the stuff i have to put up with?). Me, fearing to risk an internal civil war, conceded to the Left's request.

So there I was.. playing badminton with two rackets.

Which was fun. It allowed me greater reach, a second chance should my first whack miss and even allowed the liberty of faking shots to confuse the enemy. The only thing that i havent quite figured out yet is how to serve the damn shuttlecock.

It's not a totally bad idea though.

Japan's greatest swordsman, Miyamoto Musashi put in a nice way in The Way of the Five Rings. A rough translation of the Way of Wind (correct me if im wrong) of his reasons for always using two swords to fight:

1. There is no extra gain in using a katana with two hands
2. If you're using just one hand with the katana, your other hand is useless
3. So use it.
4. Train your other hand to use another katana.

And did this work? Well, i think so. Musashi was never bested in single combat. But was he good in badminton? We will never know.

Speaking of useless left hands...

In most of the popular sports im aware of, the LEFT hand is used as a support to the right:
Basketball, wrestling, football, volleyball, baseball...etc

In these games, if you dont use the left hand, you are dead.

It is only in sissy versions of REAL games that the left hand is left uselessly hanging on the side. What games, you may ask?

Badminton and pingpong (as against Tennis), Fencing (as against Kendo), Duckpin bowling (as against 10 Pin bowling) and of course, the ultimate one handed game of all... Chess.

Yes. These games are all popularized by the Mafia of the Right Hand in their evil quest to totally dominate the Left. Pretty soon, there will be games like one-handed basketball, gaming controllers that require only one hand for control or maybe soccer will allow the use of one hand while playing.

But as long as Left hands like mine are here to foil the Right's evil plans, this world shall be safe for all Handkind.