President's Son Buys Alcohol While the Metro Drowns in Ondoy

Ortigas Extension, Height of Ondoy Rains

Mikey Arroyo's Important Purchase, Height of Ondoy Rains

This is not a trick of any kind. This is the ultimate paparazzi picture (grabbed from Facebook, not my own). Shown here is Presidential Son Mikey Arroyo as he was seen buying liquor at Rustan's Supermarket in the middle of Ondoy's wrath.

There is a trend I see here. The first family has this penchant for celebrating like gluttons while the rest of the country is either in mourning or in state of calamity. A few months ago, PGMA and her cohorts were reported to have all those lavish dinners. These were held while President Cory was on her last days.

Now, Mr. Pogi Mikey is caught on his way to trying to get wasted while the rains poured and washed away the lives of many. Maybe we should schedule a Winnie Monsod interview again? For the full effect? I am just so interested what his palusot will be this time. I am so sure that with that palusot will be that trademark gum-showing grin he got from his mother.

[UPDATE] Mikey's reaction to the paparazzi shot

Tama bang pati facebook i-regulate? Pwede ba? Ang engot masyado ng comeback eh. Ang engot lang as in. And, by the way, your alibi is so lame, I want to serve it to Winnie Monsod and have her eat it for breakfast. I'd utterly enjoy that bit.

The President's Son Shaking in His Boots

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Dear Mikey,

A few things.

You're making your lawyers do an accountant's job. The SALN is, yes, a statutory requirement, but it is, first and foremost, a form of financial report. I do not see the logic there to have your lawyers do it. Unless you are more concerned with circumventing the law than issuing an accurate SALN.

You're pulling my leg. The corporation that you claim you have a 40% or so interest therein owns the California mansion. You figure that such a corporation is engaged in real estate. In short, assuming that what you're saying is legit, the mansion is part of the corporation's inventory (held for sale), and yet, it is used by the shareholders as a residence whenever they are in California. Such shareholders, you say, are relatives. Such reporting of shareholdings rather than real property on your SALN, you say, is justifiable. Such method of putting real property under the name of a corporation, you say, is legal. Because the corporation is separate and distinct from its stockholders? Eh, Mikey, have you heard of the doctrine of piercing the veil of corporate fiction? A corporation shall be denied from the use of such a corporate privilege if and when it is used "as a shield to further an end subversive of justice". Kakaaral ko lang 'yan. I can't get it wrong.

You must be kidding us. You want us to bring you to court just so we could prove that such irregularities in your SALN are, in fact, a direct product of corruption? Ha? Do we need a court to find out if dogs bark?

Ang obvious mo lang, 'te. Tigilan mo na kami. Namimihasa na ang pamilya niyo. Boo.

xtin

Nursing Board Reviewers or Model Wannabes?

This is going to be short and fast. I hope.

I was on an FX ride to Quiapo last Saturday when, as I was passing by the España-Morayta area, I saw huge billboards of Nursing Review Centers. The ads were not the ordinary enumerations of what types of services the review centers have to offer. They were not mechanical. Not boring. As a matter of fact, they were too amusing and, well, hilarious.

The review centers, well at least those which ads caught my attention, have a thing for hiring models to endorse their services. But, mind you, these characters they call endorsers are not the Lucky Manzanos (St. Augustine) or the Sarah Geronimos (AMA). That would be too common, I guess. To stand out, these review centers hire...wait for it...wait for it...ITS OWN REVIEWERS to model for them. I say "model" not just "endorse" because I do think there is a glaring distinction between the two. When someone "endorses", that someone merely "poses" for the camera. But, when someone "models", that someone "works" the camera. Like so...

Barf bag, anyone?

I just cannot think of any sane reason why institutions that aim to educate soon-to-be PROFESSIONALS would resort to such marketing strategies that are so, I don't know, superficial? Theatrical? Showbiz-like? It does not help MY cause that they--the so-called reviewers-slash-the-next-matinee-idols--seem to so enjoy it. They're working it, aren't they? They are so working it that I think I'm going to enrol for the next review session. Or not. I'm not sure, but is this type of behavior, este, marketing strategy common nowadays? I mean, for example, I still don't see CPA review centers with established reputations such as CPAR and PRTC put up billboards with Mr. Valix or Ms. Cabrera on them. Well, it may just boil down to two things: one, these nursing review centers are not as established as the CPA review centers I've mentioned or two, CPA reviewers are not as photogenic as nursing reviewers. Who knows, diba?

Or...no one can work the camera like these blokes do. Move over, Piolo.

Piolo? No, no, no. Mr. Carl Balita (shown working it in picture above) most probably got his pensive look as inspired by another veteran by the name of...

Presenting the roster of highly reputable models, este, reviewers of the Sultan Review Group:

[L-R] Mr. Tall Dark Handsome Daw, Mr. Funny Little Man, Mr. Oblique Pose Gluta Look, Mr. Fit and Trim Founder, Tonette Macho, Mr. Lean Toward Sexy Slutty Co-Reviewer, Ms. Sexy Slutty Reviewer, and wait...Ely Buendia, izdatchu? They are a better looking bunch, if you ask me.

In fairness to Edmond Sultan, though. The founder of the SRG may actually be a model. Kudos to you, bra.

I have the slightest idea of how well these nursing review centers actually are in terms of producing topnotchers and passers. I would just want to get things straight, though. What I find so, er, amusing is the "marketing strategy" these centers employ. Their performance, which is surely very satisfactory, is not my concern, really. I just find their behavior a bit odd and laughable, that's all. They might be, well, GENERALLY presentable and photogenic (give or take a few tweaks on photoshop) individuals, but I still don't think review schools should resort to such advertising, taken that they are, after all, institutions that cater to the needs of would-be PROFESSIONAL...REGISTERED NURSES. The least they can do is be more professional and less aesthetic.

That was a fast enough post, don't you think?

For sources of photos above and links to the nursing review centers mentioned, refer to the following links:
Carl Balita Review Center
Carl E. Balita Group
Sultan Review Group (Nursing)
Sultan Review Group Photos
Boy Abunda

BF: The Smartest Presidentiable

It's a good thing I didn't watch the 2nd ANC Leadership Forum. I would have either died of nosebleeds or went on cardiac arrest from hysterical laughter.

S - as in Sobra na...
T - as in Tama na...
U - as in nakaka-Umay na...
P - as in Pwede ba?
I - as in Itigil na...
* - as in Dog.

Vow.

Sina Kapitan Putok, Boy Bakat at ang Pink Boxers with Turtle Prints [pictures by the Global Paparazzi]

It has been a little over a week since I got home from a two-week backpacking trip across four Southeast Asian cities.

Scorching hot summer sun.
Occasional rain showers.
Culture.
History.
Heritage.
Fun.

All that pero, opcors, may okrayang ding naganap.

I would like to introduce to you a few, very UNIQUE individuals I met along the way.

DESTINATION: HANOI, VIETNAM

Exposed in the Park

Ay, si koyah, kita brip.

Kapitan Putok

He was as any junk captain would be, I suppose. But the odor was to die for as in nakamamatay. We were meters away, but we could still smell IT. Salt water breeze and underarm emissions sooo don't go together.

DESTINATION: BANGKOK, THAILAND

Man of My Dreams

Not! I caught this hunk of a man in the middle of his photo op at the Grand Palace in Bangkok. Apparently, it wasn't fulfilling enough to just stand and smile for the camera. He had to, one, wear his oh so fashionable belt bag and, two, role his sleeve up and pose with his badass bicep tattoo showing. What was even funnier was when he wasn't satisfied with his first shot, he asked his friend to retake it! Our hunk here sure knows how to compose a shot, doesn't he? What a douche!

DESTINATION: HALONG BAY, VIETNAM

A not-so-ordinary day at the beach

Beach Volleyball

There are a couple of unusual things in this picture. One, the girl in the bikini has a tattoo which, to me, looks like her butt crack. Two, the guy in the middle's concept of beach-volleyball-appropriate get-up is appalling. Belt? White cotton pants rolled up to appear as if they were shorts? Can anybody be more hilarious?

Pong Pagong had his hand in this.

That day, I knew there was something wrong with the beach. It wasn't because of the lack of colorful marine life nor the murky waters, although they were surely part of the general atrocity. Mainly, that day on the beach was off because we kept on seeing men in truly unusual outfits. Pink boxers with turtle prints? Really? At may shawl ka pa ha...iba na yan...

And in the tradition of men in truly unusual beach outfits...

Boy Bakat's Father

Did I not already tell you that we didn't have a good day at the beach? Seriously...with so little fabric, how could any sane man think he could fit everything in there? What's that in his waist? His camera's lens cap? It's one thing to sport nuthuggers. It's another thing when you use them to store camera accessories. Blech.

And now...meet BOY BAKAT himself...

I felt the need to somehow conceal his identity. But of course, without depriving you with shots showcasing his...erm...abs? Hehe. I think he realized his booboo and got embarassed at some point. Who could have blamed him really? We were laughing at this guy so hard, not discreetly, mind you, that he immediately got out of the water and made his way to the showers. Sino naman kasi ang may sabi na mag-brip ka sa beach, ha? Kadiri lang. You are, indeed, your father's son.

It might be a while until my next trip. Something tells me that from now on, I will be forever be wary of heading for the beach. After what I've seen, I think I might need psychological treatment.

Back from the Dead

Weeks have long passed since my last post and I think the time's just right to get back in the habit.

Another busy season at work just came past me and that means several things. I have endured a handful of conflicts, uttered a dictionary of cuss words, filled myself with a truck load of bitterness, and held back a lake of tears. The short of it is, now, I'm writing before you all messed up by the worst busy season ever, angry, and definitely ready to go.

Death came to take me away, but now, I'm back. Oh, most definitely, friggin' back.

As I was tied up most of the time with the unholy work hours the past weeks, I only had a few moments to myself. The selfless person that I am, I chose not to devote those short moments to attend to my personal needs. I did not so much as go up and get some air. Rather, I chose to render public service. What would that service be, you ask? Well, it's just one word—paparazzi. There's a grammatical error somewhere there, but if you're really here to spell and grammar check me, I'm sure it'll be better to just move along. If what you're too concerned with is my writing style, then by all means, find something else to read, something which will more suit your ever discriminating taste. Stop wasting your time with this post and find something else to do. I'm sure you have a life. So, please, do me a friggin' favor and live it. As far away from me and this blog as possible.

Howkay, I've transgressed a bit there. Bear with me. Hehe.

Ah yes, serving the public as a paparazzo. I've enjoyed it the past year, but I must admit that it has been more fulfilling being one the past busy season. The short breaks that I had, I looked around and tried to look for disturbing sights. It has become doubly hard, though, because I have progressively been moving away from my 20-20 vision of the late 90s. Aside from that, my new phone does not take pictures discreetly. I couldn't mute the clicking sound it makes when it takes pictures, nor could I tame the flash.

Despite being pressed for time, having deteriorating eyesight, and being left with a paparazzi-unfriendly camera phone, I still managed to steal several shots worthy enough for a comeback post.


Same old, same old

Korean mob at it again.

Cold in the Scorching Summer Heat

Five words. Hagrid. Shemagh. Shades. Starbucks. Summer. Do you get the picture? I got it and I was laughed my ass off.


The Craig David Experience

The date was March 27, 2009 and there were five things.

One, Craig David was great.

Two, the crowd bombed.

Three, the only song the upper box peeps seemed to know was Insomnia.

Four, there was this guy in sando.

Five, there was this girl with her mobile phone who spent the whole concert, except when Insomnia was on, on her seat, incessantly texting her god-forsaken text mates of god-knows-what nonsense.

YOU'RE IN A CRAIG DAVID CONCERT, DAMN IT. STAND UP, DANCE, AND HAVE FUN!


Makati CBD and Guy in Tank Top

What decent Ayala Avenue corporate office would continue to employ someone who dresses up like a douchebag? Two things. This douche might not be employed in such an office or is employed by such but the Company itself is a joke.

I better not hear this guy complain about not getting a decent job. Because, mister douche, a decent job requires you to dress decently. You won't get paid by a show of untamed arm pit hair.


Get a Room, Dudes

PDA. PDA. PDA. Blech.

Wow. I've reached the end of this post, but for some reason, I feel that it's still not enough. Your girl right here is still full of bitter thoughts and ugly bitch fits to share. I'll give myself a few more days (or hours?) to come up with another post. For now, hope you enjoyed. I'll get back to you in a bit with, hopefully, a nasty take on my seatmates at work. Let's keep our fingers crossed until then.

The Colorum Preacher and His Supporter Cast the First Stone

He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone. –JOHN 8:7

I am Catholic, but I am admittedly not the very religious type. However little my efforts might seem to others, the faith that I have means more to me and is as much a big part of myself. I see this faith as my own. I don’t see the need to impose what I believe in upon others who do not share the same. If we have different faiths, it is not because one is better than the other. We’re just different. No more, no less. Plain and simple.

I don’t mind when, once in a while, I hear words from other people seemingly convincing me to adopt the same faith as theirs. What appalls me are the people who talk and preach as if they are sincere in their endeavors in sharing the word of their God, but are actually those who simply think that theirs is a more superior faith.

Unfortunately, I came across two such persons last night.

Of all places, I was on my shuttle ride home when some guy, who I could only surmise as someone young and optimistic, at the back row of the van suddenly started talking aloud. I had my earphones on, as always, so, at first, I thought it was just another person talking loudly while on his mobile phone.

It was when I started to hear, even with my blaring music on, statements like, “I encourage you to get in touch with God” and “I’m sure it will change your life the same way it did mine” that I realized that I was in the midst of something very odd.

I did not bother to listen to what he was saying. It was one thing that he was preaching in a tightly enclosed space. It surely was another that he was doing this in a van full of tired office employees, all of whom can’t wait for some rest and peace and quiet.

At the end of his “speech”, he even started getting political. He asked “us” to pray for our city mayor as, apparently, the public official needs all the help in shutting down all those night clubs along Sucat road.

Colorum Preacher: …These women deserve better. The married men who go into these clubs deserve better. These night clubs cheapen our society…so let us help and pray for our mayor for him to be successful in dealing with this issue.

Something to that effect.

At that point, he was making some sense, I admit. Nonetheless, I had half an ear to lend to him.

As he ended his “speech”, he said “goodnight” to all of us and stopped talking. All of a sudden, the man, probably in his mid-50s, who was conveniently seated beside me, was apparently so moved by Colorum Preacher’s speech that he himself began his verbal commentary on the matter.

I was not able to make anything out of the things he said. In fairness, his was just, I think, two or three short statements which lasted less than a minute (as opposed to Colorum Preacher’s seven minutes). I could only assume that the statements were some kind of affirmation of what Colorum Preacher had to say as I also heard Colorum Preacher thank him after he gave out his comment. Colorum Preacher then proceeded to start a conversation with his apparent “Supporter” (note that the Supporter and I were on the third row, while Colorum Preacher was behind us):

Colorum Preacher: [in a voice that resounded within the four tin walls of the shuttle] What church are you from, Sir?

Supporter ni Colorum Preacher: [mentions his church]

Colorum Preacher: Ah, wonderful.

They kept on their loud talk and I was actually successful in ignoring them. But of course, I wasn’t that fortunate the whole ride home.

Supporter ni Colorum Preacher: So, if you want, just text me because we [his church group] are in the process of interpreting the Torah.

Colorum Preacher: Yes, wonderful, sir.

Just as I was beginning to think that it was all over and done with, the two delved into the discussion of specific biblical verses, the exact denominations of which I overlooked, only remembering that they were talking about the book of Genesis, the days of creation, and the number of times God said, “It was good,” every time he created something. I did not hear how the discussion progressed, but I did witness the following appalling turn of events, right down to the last elitist sigh:

Supporter ni Colorum Preacher: Do you know that that is the most violated commandment? Many of us don’t even know that we are already committing sin.

Colorum Preacher: ‘Yan ang hirap sa mga Kristiyanong hindi inaaral ang Bibliya.

Supporter ni Colorum Preacher: Sssssshhhhhh… [points to the rest of the passengers of the shuttle, including Xtin, in a gesture that looked to me as if he was saying, “Don’t say that, baka marinig ka nila (the other passengers), ang mga taong hindi nag-aaral ng Bibliya”]

xtin: [in deep thought] Hallur. Narinig na namin noh! ‘Tong epal na ‘to…

I once said in an old post:

You see, the significance of believing or not believing in a god does not lie on
the correctness or fallibility of things. what is, though, is how a person,
through experiences and maybe even research, ended up as a believer or
non-believer.

If you, Colorum Preacher and Supporter, spend more time in analyzing the Bible, word for word, it will never mean that those who do not devote their faith in the same endeavors as yours are inferior, as the both of you obviously feel.

I certainly did not appreciate how condescending these two were to the others in the van. They didn’t know who we were, yet, they felt that they could easily assume that we were beings of a lesser stature. What disgusts me even more is the fact that their only criteria in passing judgment is the assumed lack of knowledge of the rest of us as regards Biblical verses and its true meaning.

That just brings me to wonder, have these two half-wits spent some of their precious time mulling over John 8:7? Concerned lang ako at baka sila naman ang nakaka-violate nito.

Pwede ba. The two of you are hypocrites to me. Kaya magtigil kayo. Cast the first stone, damn it. Cast the first stone, why don’t you?