Virtual People Watching: Makoy @ Close

The internet is one heck of a breakthrough, aint it? Ever since the world wide web phenomenon began, it has been so much easier to locate information that one needs. One click. Done.

I am most benefited by this advancement not because it takes me half the usual time to communicate with people or finish a research paper. I am advantaged by the internet because, above all, it sure makes finding something to laugh at a heck of a lot easier.

Virtual people-watching is something I do when I can't go some place and people-watch because: (a) i'm stuck in the office or (b) i'm just to lazy to. I go to google and search using a keyword that's a bit, how should i put it, pedestrian. A word that will obviously bring about search results that are ultra humorous.

A few weeks ago, i tried googling "tropa". After a couple of minutes of browsing through some of the 20,000+ results, i realized that i hit the jackpot. LOL would be an understatement. I will be sharing quite of the few hilarious things i found through google in my upcoming entries. But now, i will be focusing on one of the most amusing among my googled hidden treasures. Presenting: the personal webpage of Mark Anthony a.k.a. MAKOY.

At first, this guy's going to appear, well, okay. He even puts his credentials on his personal info portion. The SINGLE, CATHOLIC, TAURUS, DIGITAL GRAPHIC ARTIST, and ANIMATOR that is MAKOY. Ahhhh...Makoy.

Notice that there is no mention of his expertise in the english language. But, as I came to know Makoy better through his webpage, I understood why his proficiency in english was not among his astute credentials. One look at his banner will give it away.

Nope. This banner is not an email address, mind you. I think MAKOY had his english a bit screwed up. UP being the operative term. Think "up close and personal". Now, do you get it? Instead of "Makoy...UP close", our dear Makoy creatively puts it as "Makoy...AT close". Wahahahaha.

The facade of his webpage looks a bit harmless, really. Family and barkada pictures and all. But, again, Makoy's captions, which are incidentally in his NATIVE language (cue sarcasm), put him in hot waters.

But i guess i was properly forewarned:

LOL. This site really cracks me up. In fairness, though, his credentials and grades in college (yes, it was all there, complete with course code and number of units), but, of course, minus the grammatical milestones...are impressive.

They say douchebag. I say pathological loser and poser.

...Slash Gigster...
...Slash idiots-who-wear-what-they-see-other-people-are-wearing-and-think-it-looks-good...
...Slash FG/FB (Feeling Guwapo/Feeling Beautiful).

I could go on and on. Or I could simply take a slash at my wrist to end my life right now because these people are so freaking...ugh. I could consider them the cornerstone of this blog.

Because, really, the only thing worse than that white douchebag in the picture, who ,in essence, just like all the other crack*r douchebags, is just pretending to be a cool black guy, is a pinoy douchebag, who, in turn, is just imitating a white douchebag, completely unknowing of the bigger shit he has allowed himself to become. And that, the pinoy douchebag, is one of my biggest pet peeves, if not the biggest.

You could just imagine how I am when I go to the mall or just anywhere. I am pissed, most of the time, because pinoy douchebag membership has gone haywire. Their chapters are everywhere. Shit. Like when I want to grab an Original Glazed doughnut from the 4th floor of Trinoma. My day is inevitably ruined as I stumble upon a number of kids who are in the stereotypical douchebag get-up.

Let's have a recap of the anatomy of what they call a douchebag and how I call such a, erm, look:

1. They say, “Hat tipped at perfect angle”, I say, “Gigster cap”.
   
   It’s how rappers have done it for the past few years and a flock of their following has decided to sport the same style…without understanding why the cap is tipped that way. It has a meaning and a purpose, I promise, but they’d rather go for the look alone rather than expounding on what it stands for. You know these people. Those who have their dreadlocks done without finding out that it’s really a religious practice rather than a stupid ‘do. Those who wear Che Guevara shirts, but don’t even know who Che Guevara is. Asar right? You'll see these caps on people, who, most of the time, appear on Sunday noontime shows like SOP Gigsters.
   
   On most people, it just looks so…amusing. Case in point:


Even I was once imprisoned in a douchebag state of mind:





2. They say, “Popped collar”, I say, “Collar-up”.
   
   This term I first heard from Mo Twister. I’m quite sure you’ve seen at least a bunch of these beings who wear collar-ups. You know, when you’re walking around some place like the Power Plant, you suddenly come across a guy who’s so generic? Collar-ups, waxed-up ‘do, and all? You could imagine him using “bora” and “dude” in most of his idiotic sentences? Yep, them.
   
   In my case, I’ve seen most of them in Starbucks, as usual. Sipping their Americanos, looking all, well, fresh…case in point:
   
   One I’ve seen in TriNoma, no shock there…





3. They say, “Extra small shirt”, I say, “Show-us-your-pecks shirt”.
   
   These so-called clothing, albeit a size too little, is a testament to everything that is loser-y (douchebag-ish). You must realize that losers know, deep in their heart of hearts, that they are losers. But of course, they’ll never admit to it. They’d rather operate on all their defense mechanisms: the tough, gym-built bod, signature wardrobe, bad-ass wheels, etc. All these simply to hide what they fear of revealing: their true identities. So these little shirts just show that they spent hours in the gym because they want to tell us that they’re cool, bitchin’, hot (tssss…)…
   
   As for me, the bigger the bod, the smaller the shirt, the more asinine the loser you really are. I haven’t papparazzied an exhibit of this type of douchebag yet, so I’ll update you later.
   
   
4. They say, “Stupid-ass grin”, I say, “Lebron? Isdatchu??”
   
   Chin up and give it your most maangas look. It’s really a gangsta look that often reminds me of Lebron James, because of his Nike ad. I guess if a real gangsta strikes that pose, it’s kind of cool, I guess. But if some ghetto ass does it, well…see for yourself. Case in point…




5. They say, “Chinese lettering tattoo”, I say, “It’s probably just henna gotten from a cheap Puerto Galera outing”.
   
   Trust me, it’s not the real thing. 90% of the time, it’s just henna from Galera. But if the dumb-ass is really desperate and zero financing for his tattoo desperation, better think that it’s shoe polish. Black-ink permanent marker, even.
   
   Again, these losers think they look tough with these tattoos? Well, you’re not fooling me. I know for a fact that you have half an idea what that Chinese character really means. Dumb-ass. It’s like those ghetto pinoy gangs…they name themselves after the “Chinese Mafia”, but vandalize the walls with their signature graffiti “Chinese MAPIA”. Shit. I’ve seen it once in Don Galo. Maybe I should have a trip back to that area so that I could paparazzi that stupid graffiti. Yep, I’m going to do that one of these days.



6. They say, “Livestrong band”, I say, “Bad-ass bangketa bracelet”.
   
   If I were Lance Armstrong, knowing that I started this Livestrong band trend for a really admirable cause, then seeing people like Billy Ang Batang Baller (cue Mike Villar’s Atrocities of Friendster), who sport the band as if it’s a, I don’t know, a mark that they’re tough and shit, I would feel so depressed. I guess every pinoy gangster wannabe has it because it’s the only accessory they could afford (3 for 10 pesos?), well apart from their bangketa bling, the stunning sterling silver pieces the manong tindero vows is impeccably silver, with matching "dip it in vinegar" demo. Shit.

There you have it. That’s just a run down of everything loser-y. I’m hoping I’d have future entries that will specifically deal with each characteristic in greater detail.

Shit. I just realized that I’ve finished this entry and I feel so irritated for some reason. I hate losers. Posers!

Paparazzi

It has been established that I like to go people-watching. I like telling my friends of stories of the people I watch, even though I get pissed off by them. It could be held, therefore, that:

The people I watch when I people watch piss me off.
I love people watching.
I love pissing myself off.

Funny syllogism. It may be fallacious at some point, right? But hilarious, nonetheless.

So in celebration of this fallacy, I present to you a really amusing portion of this blog: PAPARAZZI.

This is where I'm going to post pictures and images of other strangers' unguarded moments, aside from the blow-by-blow narratives that I do provide, that I personally took or have personally taken, to help us all visualize whatever irritating thing I am talking about.

The pictures will be for two things: One, for our sheer enjoyment. Two, so that at least one of you will believe even a word I am saying. Evidence. Harharhar.

The things that I have paparazzied will be plastered all over my posts and I will just be labeling them with paparazzi so that we could all make reference to it more conveniently.

Here's to invading other people's privacy. Cheers.

G.A.R (Get a room)

As I am still awaiting the final printing of the consolidated financial statements of our client, I have this lull time to blog a bit.

I marched back to another Starbucks last week, for yet another review/study session. I was feeling a bit squeamish, but it was mainly because I was a bit sick with sore throat, cough, and fever. I was, again, minding my own business in my little corner on the second floor of this Starbucks, browsing endlessly through the pages of my Hector S. De Leon textbook, when suddenly, my radar, instinctively, turned itself on.

I look to my left and my brain is bombarded by familiar words. PDA. PDPI. GAR.

Public display of affection.

Public display of physical intimacy.

Get a room.

A lean on the shoulder. A brush on the thigh. A kiss on the cheek. A breath on the ear. Endearing, much? As much as I would like to be happy for this "happy" couple, I can't. I wasn't exactly pissed off, but I was uncomfortable just the same.

Why do most couples engage in such a broadcasted way of expressing their feelings? I know that they feel like no one is watching, but do they really believe that even in such vulgar circumstances, no one would notice? Big mistake, really, unless they have always intended to be watched and scrutinized.

Good thing I was able to take a shot of how things looked. This will add to my collection of paparazzi moments.