I had an interesting weekend to say the least. Met up with the JBoys at Gram's in Rockwell again so we could be introduced to Jigs' fiancee. We packed up around 1:00 and I headed home to pack, this time for my trip to Batangas with some college friends. I was looking forward to relaxing by a beach and meeting Shirley's lesbian friend Osay. Unfortunately, only the latter met (actually exceeded) my expectations. I had a blast hanging out with Osay but was a little dissappointed in the resort we stayed in. We knew that the resort was gonna cost us about 2K for accomodations and 4 buffet, all-you-can-eat meals. What we didn't know was that it was a diving resort and there was no coastline to speak of. We had a dock and then water. Rocky water pa. It would cost us more to rent boats and be brought to other resorts or islands with beaches. I managed to get to two beaches all weekend - one with small, annoying pebbles and the other laden with bigger, smoother rocks. I got to see a shark though, but that wasn't enough to salvage the weekend. At least the food was good.

The most interesting thing about this weekend though was that I felt uninteresting. At Gram's, we challenged Janice (Jigs' fiancee) to name all of us at the table. She got everyone right except me. At the beach, I tried socializing with Osay's friends (some stewardesses) and fumbled with their names. One of the girls (who was one of the biggest bitches I've ever met in my entire life) was upset that I remembered the other's name (duh- she was cuter!) and gave me hell for it. When I asked her if she knew my name, she drew a blank and called me George.

George Bounce. Nice.

Anyway, after that weekend debacle, I'm left scrimping this week as I have to stretch whatever little money I have left till payday. The bad news? I think I only have enough till Thursday.

And my salary only kicks in come midnight of Saturday.

Single chinito male for rent as sex slave. 1K only.



I'm the worst Lit Major in the world. I knew that back then, and it still holds true now. I hardly ever read back then and to this day, I only read about two books to three books a year. My thesis didn't have anything to do with a book. I just did a critique on Superman using Northop Frye's archetypes of literature.

I have a bad habit whenever I read. I'd usually go through the first few chapters to get acquainted with the characters and the basic premise...then I turn to the end right away so I know what's going to happen.

Apparently, the same holds true for my reality show fix. I don't even wait to watch the episodes on TV and head to a website that offers real-time updates as the show is being shown in the States. I even check on spoiler alerts in different forums to see the different sightings and theories people have as to who could've won the race or who was competing in the final leg. I guess it's just my nature.

Oh, and spoiler alert! Lynn and Alex are gone from the race!!! Haha! Take that Happy Boys! It totally ruins one solid spoiler lead that placed them in the final 3 with Rob and Amber (Yay!) and Uchenna and Joyce (Yay!). Oh well, another spoiler spoiled.

INXS: Is it just me or has blog writing seriously slowed down? I mean, I make it a habit to check out the blogs of my friends and other people and somehow, they're not updated as much. I've been guilty of that as well...

Life has become less interesting I guess...Hehe.



I'm not just writing about the latest DVD I got from my supplier (which I really did just get this weekend).

I'm talking about my friends who popped up again after a while.

There was my bud Danny who I haven't really hung out with since our trip to Bicol. He dropped by the house twice last weekend. Last Saturday, we had some coffee and cake while waiting at the car wash. The conversation flowed as smoothly as the coffee and we ended up watching Harold and Kumar on DVD before he had to leave for a party. He was just dissappointed that I didn't want to go with him to a strip joint. Hehe. We met up again on Sunday to watch Euro Trip. This weekend harkened back to the days when our barkada was at my house every weekend and spent it all slothing and watching DVDs.

Sunday, I was pleasantly surprised to see Mic at mass. Mic's the one who got married in Bicol. We chatted a bit (as much as we could in church) and I got to see her mistakenly make the sign of the cross thinking that the priest was giving the final blessing. Hahahaha...errr... I guess you had to be there.

It became one of the things I was grateful to God for this week. I was resigning myself to the fact that these people who were part of my most intimate circle wouldn't really be there as my immediate source of support. I won't question that again. I realized you don't have to be there physically. You just have to be there...



I won't go into the details of last night but I will tell you that whatever happened at home has left me in a foul mood. So foul that I'm taking my seething anger out on people that deserve it.

Like the taxi driver this morning. We flagged him down in front of the house and got in. When we told him we were going to Makati, he refused, citing the reason that it was "traffic." I didn't take lightly to this and told him that I had no choice but to report him. I pulled out my phone, turned on the camera then gleefully said "Smile!" as I took a shot of his mug. I told him to wait patiently as I took pictures of everything in his taxi so I had enough evidence. I stepped out and held the door open as I took a shot of the operator name on the side. I told him I wasn't done as I knelt down in front of his cab to take a picture of his license plate. He had the nerve to make like he was going to run me over and I was in no mood to put up with his stupidity. I motioned for him to do it so I could add it to the case I was going to file. As I stepped to the side, I admonished him then told him that I'll see him at the hearing.

My anger struck again this afternoon after lunch. As I was walking back to the office from the KFC at Greenbelt, I was peeved to see one of those rigger vehicles that tow away "illegally" parked cars breaking the law that they enforce. The truck was parked in plain sight along a road marked with no parking signs. and the driver and his passengers were strewn atop the truck sleeping. I couldn't let this opportunity pass me by and barked out "Hoy! Bawal mag-parking diyan!" (Hey, parking here is illegal!) which woke them up and got me a whole slew of dirty looks. I had the last word of course and sarcastically told them that they should be the ones who get towed.

It's not that I'm not in the mood. I am in the mood....to piss people off. Who's next?



Ok I did it.

I admit it. I shamelessly went to Bambang to sample this Ukay-ukay thing. Of curse, the fear of contracting a disease from these clothes weighed heavy on my mind, but my curiosity (and need for a particular piece of clothing) got the better of me.

I went there with the intent of buying a pair of board shorts for my upcoming forays to the beach. That was supposed to be it.

So I got my board shorts. And a pair of Sperry sneakers. And a couple of fabulous shorts. And some pretty cool shirts. And this vintage Diesel polo that was quite a wonderful find.

All- in-all, I spent about 3,000 pesos on my first Ukay excursion. I don't think it'll be my last.

  1. Congratulations are in order for my friend Jim. He passed the bar and becomes our first attorney. About damn time! Haha, kidding my friend!
  2. DVD update: Stopped by the Square last weekend and picked up Closer, Hotel Rwanda, Monster, Meet the Fockers and two Chinese films (One had a lesbian storyline. What was one to do?).



I don't remember my first time. I think I was in college then and would do it only on occasion, especially if a cute girl offered. Once I graduated though and started working, I found myself doing it more and more. Over twenty times a day.

Cigarettes that is.

In my first job, it was so easy to smoke. I just had to head to the pantry and puff away. Every time a client bitched, I automatically headed to the pantry and lit up. Every time someone invited me for a stick, I couldn't say no. Although it was a way for me to blow the tension off from work it was also the perfect way to socialize in the office. Almost everybody there smoked and had quite a story to tell. By the end of the day, I was wheezing from either smoking or laughing too much.

When I moved to Lintas in Rufino Tower, the only way for me to smoke was to make the tedious journey to the 6th floor every time. We smoked in packs (of people, not cigs) and I ended up smoking more in one sitting since it took so much effort to make the trip. We had to squeeze as much nicotine in our lungs to tide us over for a few hours. Like before, it was still a social event.

Here in my current office, smoking has become "me" time. I think only one other person smokes here and he and I don't have the same schedules. We'd have the occasional stick together but more often than not, smoking has become a solo flight.

That's why I enjoy going out with my friends from my high school days. A lot of us smoke and some of us smoke only when we're together (away from the watchful eyes of their better halves - to protect their identities, I will disguise them under the names Tommy Abuel and R-Gay). There's nothing like hazy laughter on a late night out.

Where am I going with this? I think I need a cig.



1:49 p.m.

Three hours and fifty-five minutes till I call it another day.

I can't believe I'm clock-watching like this. It's not like there aren't things to do at work. There are, but none too pressing. It's just that when the work's done, I feel that I've accomplished nothing of value. Put in my time, put the money in my pocket.

Times like these are just begging for me to look at my dreams and goals to see how close/far I am from accomplishing them.

1. Get on TV - check. Did that right after college
2. Be a DJ- check.
3. Perform my music live - check
4. Record an album - any takers?

Not bad. 3 out of 4. And I'm not even 30 yet. Thus, I ask the question, "What now?"



Friday. Noontime. I was spreading the word about the 4J gimmick that night. I called Jim.

"NO IT'S NOT TODAY!" was the first thing that came booming from my phone's receiver.

"I wasn't asking." was my curt reply.

"Oh." Jim said sheepishly and we proceeded to talk about the gathering later that night.

I was lying though. The thought of asking about the bar results did come to mind. I chose not to so that my friend's anxiety wouldn't reach stratostophic proportions.

I've been there before, though not for the bar. I remember when I was awaiting the results when I was trying to get back into Ateneo. I was praying. I was sweating. I had a pit in my stomach the size of Bicol. And when I finally got the news, the heavens opened up and a choir of angels rejoiced along with me.

Now I'm hoping for the same for my friend.



I woke up late today.

As in major late. As in I couldn't pull myself out of bed or even open my eyes.
I just wanted to sleep all day, but the duties I have at work yanked me out of bed by 11 AM. After a nice homecooked lunch (which I only get to enjoy on weekends), I started my grueling task of getting ready for work.

As I was painstakingly pulling my clothes on, I turned on the TV to see what's new with the world. I was shocked to see the bulletin on CNN that Pope John Paul was in a very grave condition. It wasn't the run-of-the-mill news we've been used to hearing lately of the Pope going in and out of the hospital. This was serious. He even received the last rites; something he last received in 1981 when he was almost assassinated.

Of course, my thoughts drifted to the time when he was here and the country went crazy with his arrival. People lined the streets. Everywhere the Pope went, masses huddled together, basking in his love and sincere appreciation for the outpouring of affection. He did promise to retun but back then, I had a feeling that he wouldn't.

And now, I could be right.

Let's say a prayer for the Pope. Whatever your religious orientation is, he was and is a great man deserving of our thoughts.