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?

My Starbucks Hitlist: Deconstructing the Starbucks Crowd [Post Valentine Edition]

Damn. I've been itching to write about this since after February 14th and it is only now that I finally found time.

By this time, I guess, the hoopla that was Valentine's Day 2009 has subsided (I'm keeping my fingers crossed). As I look back at it, I realize that this event is becoming more and more celebrated as years pass by. Year after year, there are more roses, more heart-shaped balloons, more heart-shaped boxes of chocolates, and more stupid couples.

Whoops, did I say stupid? Well, I should strike that now, lest I be accused of being a bitter and cold old lady (who only talks to her cats, haha).

Not that anyone is asking, BUT, I don't celebrate Valentine's Day. Well, at least, not like the rest of our pop culture society. Ah, don't call the bitterness just yet. I do have a valid and non-spinster take on this. February 14 has never been V-day to me. It has always been my Mom's birthday. I have always known this special day to be a family day and not as luveyduvey ka-corny-han.

This might've been the reason why I was soooo pissed off when this Lovapalooza thing was first held on V-day several years ago. Not that I found it sappy and lame (as an excuse to kiss in public). Well, I did, but those were just the secondary reasons why I hated it. The Lovapalooza crowds, in addition to the god-forsaken couples who concertedly went out on that one night, messed up traffic so badly, so much so that I was late for class.

Harumph.

Since then, I have known V-day not only as my Mom's birthday or a cutesy-patootsie excuse for couples to go out or a night when every friggin' resto is booked, but also as a solid reason to stay in and avoid the insane traffic.

Which brings me to this year's V-day post.

I avoided the Feb14 traffic this year, but, I was, in fairness, out that night. I was out...studying, that is. I went to my favorite Starbucks and proudly browsed through my readings as I sipped my warm coffee. It was actually a so-so night. I didn't expect to see anything close to a spectacle. Well, it seemed that I was too engrossed with my studying that I almost missed out on a promising candidate for my hitlist:


THE BITTER V-DAY SPINSTERS

Worse than ampalaya. Worse than Bridget Jones. Even no better than xtin.

Tell-tale signs (you know that there are Bitter Spinsters in your midst when):

1. There are a couple of girls sitting together.
2. They carry a single red rose. Identical to the rose each one has.
3. All of them seem to be enjoying the night.
4. There are sporadic outcries of, "I love being single!" or "Gahd! I'm so happy I'm not on a date tonight."
5. The group talks incessantly about their other girlfriend who is, in fact, on a date that night.
6. They end up laughing at the thought of how ugly or lame-ass their girlfriend's date is.
7. The conversation takes a turn for the worse All of a sudden, Pandora's box of bitterness is opened.
8. The ranting goes on: from being miserable (although not admittedly due to being single) to having a crappy job or being fired from one
9. The get-together ends with a closer like, "I'm so happy I spent tonight with you guys." [insert group hug]
10. It is, after all, Valentine's Day.

When I took my nose out of my Sales book that I was too engrossed with, I noticed that Starbucks was filled by groups and groups of girls. There was one pair of girls who caught my attention, though.

Bitter Spinster 1: [on the phone] Di'ba you're on a date tonight? Ha? Ano? Tapos na? Bakit?

Bitter Spinster 2: [listening in to the phone conversation] Ano? Bakit tapos na? Nyek!

BS1: Come here na lang. Go na! We want to see what he looks like!

BS2: [jumps excitedly like someone just bit her ass]

*an hour later*

BS1 and 2: [sees their Taken Girlfriend] HEY!

Bitter Spinster's Taken Girlfriend: [hands one rose each to BS1 and BS2]

BS1 and 2: AWWWW!

BS2: O, what happened on your date?

BS1: Oo nga, where is he?

Hala, ang mga ate, no such thing as privacy. Or being discreet man lang. And to think that this was their highest point of the night. Before Taken Girlfriend came, BS1 and BS2 were sulking in their "ruined" lives. BS1 spoke of getting laid of and feigning being fine. BS2 kept on talking about a boy who would probably fit in one of the chapters of He's Just Not That Into You.

Seeing them that way kind of gave me a certain joy. On paper, I think I was no different than these young women. Alone, so-to-speak. Unsatisfied at work. Bitter in general. I also understand how a night like the 14th of February feels a bit off, simply because I'm not celebrating love the way the rest of society is doing it. But hey, at least I don't call a girlfriend up, in the middle of her date, just so she could share with me how the date turned sour.

I could be bitter. But I will not attempt to uplift myself from the dumps at the expense of a friend. That's low. And cheap. Would rather do it at the expense of an idiot like...oh, and that's another rant right there...hahaha.

Today was a Bad Day

Busy season is here. Damn it.

If you would remember, this blog was a product of the busy season. Just to refresh your memory, this busy season that I speak of is that time at work where the load just comes rushing in. This period is also known as the tax season—the months leading to April 15.

Emotions are at their all time high in the office. Of course, if there would be a ranking of sorts in this category, I would be numero uno. Not that I crumble under pressure. If some people eat when they are stressed out, me? I pick fights. I fret. I bitch. And I bitch some more. That's because during the busy season, I am perpetually in a bad mood. I should actually wear a warning sign saying, "BACK OFF", just to spare some innocent souls from my wrath.

Today, my eyebrows spent 80% of the day together, with the other a bit raised at times, and my lips were curled in hostility. That just means one thing. Busy season na naman. Shet. Away na 'to.

My day's start was not that bad really. I was early for work and, of course, nothing would beat me being on time. I was upbeat and all, ready to conquer the work place when…

My manager engaged me in a "it's your word against mine" game. This is, of course, a game no lowly senior has yet to win. "Sabi mo kaya sa'kin huwag ko tignan [ang documents]…" This senior said. "Ano ka? Hindi ko sinabi 'yan ano?" Not wanting to go even further with this pointless conversation, I listened to what was left to be said and I walked out, disgruntled to say the least.

Eager to do something to brighten up the rest of my afternoon, I went to Glorietta to meet a couple of friends for lunch. The lunch was good and the company was even better. Had I known the string of unfortunate events that would transpire thereafter, I wouldn't have left and gone back to work.

But I did and then, my bad day started to live up to its name. One mishap at a time.

I walked under the scorching heat, in a jacket, along Ayala, just so I could get a cab. I had to go to the client, as it was part of the punishment from losing the "it's your word against mine" game. I couldn't find a cab so I had to relocate from time to time. I also had my laptop with me and, gahd, was it heavy! I was sweaty and admittedly not pleasant anymore. I scored a cab an hour later only to find out…

My colleague, who I was going to meet at the client's and was my sole purpose for going there, has gone back to the office. "Hello, *****? Bakit ka bumalilk ng office?" I asked. In a voice of a little terrified girl, "Ay sorry po. Akala ko dito [office] tayo magkikita." Not wanting to scare her off this early in the busy season, I fought the feeling of shouting at her and at anyone else within the vicinity. I thought I was doing great, but…

The damn cab driver "lame-excused" his way to getting ten pesos from me. Since I was not far from the office when I got my colleague's call, I just asked the driver to turn the next corner and bring me back. Although the ride was shorter than my temper, the driver managed to get 50 pesos from me. The meter said "40.00" , but when I handed him a 50-peso bill, this extortionist retorted in this lame but classic excuse, "Ay ma'am, wala pa po akong barya." Neither did I. Not wanting to shout at this beast of a human being, I mumbled cuss words to myself and stepped out of his cab. Then all of a sudden…

My colleague, who I was going to meet at the client's but has gone back to the office, suddenly popped out of nowhere catching me in the worst mood I've had in months. "Boss! Wait lang," I told my colleague in a voice that filled the lobby. I didn't realize it then but a friend had seen me that moment and told me later in the day how sungit I was to the staff. I felt bad really, but God knows that I was trying. And since HE wanted to test me even more…

The lobby security guard nagged me to clip my damn ID on. Of course, as I didn't have it ready, I had to scramble around the insides of my heavy bag. I didn't find it then so I just went ahead without putting my ID on. But the guard started to insist that I do. "Ugh. Konti na lang talaga, sisigaw na ako…" I mumbled to myself. And do you know what the guard told me? "Weh bakit kayo nagagalit?!?"

ABA'Y P*CHA NAMAN EH. HOY, HINDI KITA KINAKAUSAP, NOH? NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU, MORON. ALAM MO BA KUNG ANO ANG PINAGDAANAN KO THE LAST HOUR? IKAW NGA SA LAKI NG KATAWAN MO, ANDITO KA LANG SA MAY AIRCON AT LILIM EH. ANO PA AKO NA NAARAWAN, NAGLAKAD NG DALAWANG KILOMETRO, UMALIS, BUMALIK, AT DINAKDAKAN NG PANGIT AT HAMPAS-LUPANG GAYA MO? SO TINGIN MO SA'YO LANG AKO GALIT? GALIT AKO SA BUONG MUNDO, P*NYETA!

Of course, I didn't say that. And not being able to say that to his ugly face is what triggered this post, actually. Argh. Not wanting to make a scene, I just said, "Hindi ako nagagalit," as I was trying to fight back the urge of slapping him senseless. Just when I thought I've had enough, I got into the elevator and…

The freaking operator misses my floor. Argh. Argh. Argh. "Boss?!" I called his attention. He just smiled and never apologized. In fact, he was more into making something out of my bad mood than he was trying to become apologetic. I gathered that he was thinking that him missing my stop was the SOLE reason I was in a bad mood, therefore, I was ultimately unreasonable and nagiinarte. Not wanting to make matters worse, I looked down, tried to avoid unconsciously rolling my eyes at the operator, pinched my cheek to numb the urge of bursting, and alighted at the tenth floor, after a round trip elevator ride.

I got to my workspace and thought, "I am never going to do that again." Never will I let them off like that. Never will I put their own feelings first. Never will I hold back. Ever. Again. Nagtitimpi lang ako, but since busy season na, it's this bitch's time to shine. Magalit na ang magalit. Mapaiyak ko na, kung mapaiyak ko. Kung ayaw niyo ng away, better get out of my way. Don't say I didn't warn you.

My Annoying Seatmates Here at Work [Part 1]

Today is the day I shall break the ice. My silence stops here.

Over the last few weeks, I have grown FOND of my seatmates here at work. They remind me of my days as a new hire in our firm. Back when I was four years younger…four years stupider…and definitely four years more annoying.

I think you know what I mean.

It’s like after we spend three years in high school and we finally become seniors. It’s the way we see the people from the lower batches, especially the froshies. It’s the way the younger ones seem more annoying both in how they look and act. It’s the way we suddenly wonder if we were that stupid when we were in the same stage.
I could go about work without noticing them, really, but the annoying things that my seatmates are into are just too glaring to just be passed upon.

Let me just paint you a picture of how the set-up here in the office is like:

Our work area simply a vast common room where there are individual workspaces, no dividers, and no cubicles (at least for those who are not yet managers). There is a hodgepodge of files, determining the ownership of which will truly be a logistical nightmare. The place redefines overcrowding, really. A workspace typically intended for one is occupied by two people, or even more. It is where a simple breathe becomes an invasion of the next person’s privacy.

Could you just imagine how inevitable it is for each one of us here in the office to be familiar with our seatmates’ goings on? All that even when we do not intend or even want to have the slightest idea? We can’t help but be all connected, however annoying that connection might turn out to be. Annoying enough to muster that feeling of wanting to box the next person. Well, at least on my part.

I have at least five officemates within the 3 meter radius of my workspace, all of whom are at least 3 batches lower than me. They have this tendency to engage in “activities” which, to my “seasoned” and “mature” senses, are unreasonably juvenile, tantamount to nuisances, thus, annoying.

Now, I would like to introduce you to my seatmates. This time, however, I will have no accompanying pictures. I still have mercy, you know, however others might think otherwise. Besides, since filing libel charges against bloggers might be the next fad, I think making these out as blind items, at least for this post, would lessen my litigation expenses.


First of [maybe] 5 parts…

Discreetly Haliparot Girls
The name speaks for itself, really. These supposed-to-be epitomes of Maria Clara, hailing from the province, and seemingly exuding of rural innocence and womanhood, are not at all what they project themselves to be.

Discreetly Haliparot Girl #1 (DHG1) sits to my left. She is supposedly a barrio lass: speaks like she’s always whispering, sneezes like an itsy bitsy mouse, gives out a shy smile at everyone, takes itsy bitsy bites off her food, wipes the side of her mouth with her embroidered hanky after she takes a bite of her sandwich, engages in public display of physical intimacy…

Wait…what was that?

Yes, that’s right. DHG1 morphs into this creature completely devoid of intimacy issues every time her boyfriend drops by to check on her:


Boyfriend of DHG1: [in disgusting baby talk] O…bakit hindi ka sumama mag-lunch? Magugutom ka niyan? [steals a 1/8 torrid smooch]

DHG1: [smooches back]

DHG1: [in even more appalling baby talk] Eh kasi…ang dami ko pa gawin eh… [gives out a cutesy pout]

xtin: [pretends not to notice, but is nevertheless annoyed]


Apparently, the Maria Clara of today is overly affectionate and annoying. And when such attitude is displayed in the office, I don’t know because I might be wrong on this, isn’t that considered inappropriate? It’s one thing when she’s like this with her boyfriend. It’s just a whole other ball game when she does the same thing to other guys. Guys. Plural.


Other guy/s: [in an I’m-your-concerned-friend-slash-shoulder-to-cry-on tone] O, musta na? Busy ka ba?

DHG1: [in patent baby talk] Eto…

DHG1: [looks up to guy, gives out a cutesy sigh, and bats her eyelashes]

Another guy: [detects flirtation in the air]

Other guy/s: Talaga? Wawa ka naman…

Other guy/s: [sits beside DHG1, extends his arm over the shoulders of DHG1, gives her shoulders a squeeze]

DHG1: [gives out yet another sigh and leans on the open torso of the guy/s]

xtin: [in disgust and in thought] Naknampuchanamanoe. Alam mo, hija, kung nanay mo ako, makukurot talaga kita sa singit! Burikak ka na nga, salawahan pa! Ay santisima!


To be continued…

Metro Gwapito na ngayong 2009, Metro Gwapo sa 2010

WTF?!?

I have been so moved to write another post about my beloved BF (Bayani Fernando, of course...not boyfriend, pwede ba?). This catharsis was brought about not by the recent developments in Congress where some solons have (finally) realized how idiotic Metro Manila now looks after BF tickled it pink, but by a certain poster plastered on a large wall near the MMDA HQ along EDSA-Guadalupe:

HATE IT. Let me count the reasons why.

1. The poster has BF’s face on it. Need I say more? Actually, I think I do. If a year ago, our BF had a hilarious bad boy poster, he outshines that joke with this joke. What is the punch line this time, you ask? Isn’t it obvious? It is the way his pose tries so much to be candid. He tries so hard to be pensive here, but to me, he ends up looking really fake anyway.
2. It highlights the kind of brown-noser he is.
3. It depicts how his style of “developing” the metro actually made the metro more cluttered. Ang gulo naman kasi ng collage, eh no?
4. It suggests that what is actually clutter, he calls kaayusan and passes them off as his achievements in office.
5. It is a total waste. Of space. Of funds. And of time. Yours and, of course, mine.

I was trying to find time to take a picture of the poster myself. But then, I realized that I did not have to when I stumbled upon it over at the MMDA website. Wow. They’re really proud of it over there, aren’t they?

There are many things there in the website, actually, that most of us will find amusing, to say the least.

In my recent visit, I learned of MMDA’s new battle cry:

METRO GWAPITO NA NGAYONG 2009
METRO GWAPO SA 2010

2010, sir? Did you say 2010? Aba’y kung hindi ka naman ba isang dakot na presumable! You have assumed so many things. Among them are: one, that the word “gwapo” works well with you and; two, that no one will notice that your new battle cry is actually already a tagline for your presidential candidacy. You amaze me, sir, you do. Your class act amazes me.

Despite this amazement, come 2010, I reiterate that though I do not have the slightest idea who to vote for, I am sure who NOT to vote for. My vote will never be cast in favor of a brown noser or an engineer who likes to color his projects pink.

But I still want to thank BF. If not for his tasteful new posters along EDSA (one in EDSA-Guadalupe Northbound, another in EDSA-Magallanes Southbound), I would not have had the perfect opportunity to unburden myself of even just one nuisance in my life. Thanks na rin.

9 QUESTIONS TO 2009: WHY I NOTICE EVERYTHING [an away a day year-ender special]

"2008 will rock," a friend once said.

And indeed, it did. At least for this blog and for whatever purpose it wanted to serve. I have had so much fun putting together things and stories, all for our amusement. From gigster caps to shemaghs, douchebags to ang pinakamababang uri ng tao, from Starbucks Katipunan to KLCC Airport…and to cyberspace. True enough, this blog has somewhat served its purpose—I have vented out excess angst and laughed heartily along the way. Knowing that my persona has been unburdened by several angry and sarcastic posts, makes my 2008 rock harder.

Here's to a year of pintasera moments.
Here's to another year of bitch fits.
And here's to me, because…

I NOTICE EVERYTHING.

Yes, I do. I may even surprise you, as I have the select few that have recently met me and have witnessed my "gift". They note, "Napapansin mo lahat, noh?" to which I candidly respond with a giggle and an "I know, right?" I am remarkably attentive to even the most mundane things that would easily go unnoticed by a normal person.

So…does that imply that I'm ABnormal? Maybe. But that's a totally different post right there.

Whether or not I am a child of normalcy is not the issue. What is, though, are certain questions, answers to which will explain why I tend to notice everything.



Question #1
Why is it that when I'm in class and the professor shoots a question at me, I will most likely miss out on the answer?

Answer
I have been distracted by a classmate's fishnet stockings and a sudden song stuck in my head (I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it through, I didn't know how lost I was until I found you)



Question #2
Why is it that when a friend is telling me some story, that is, as most stories tend to, taking too long to finish, it is not far of a possibility that I will zone out and stare into space?

Answer
I am taking notice of something else, say, the cute guy whose view is conveniently located behind my friend's head.



Question #3
Why is it that when I'm walking down the street, even when I seem to be busy "not looking", I am looking?

Answer
I am actually analyzing the science of your wearing a horrendous pair of boots.

Question #4
Why is it that when I'm in my ride to the office, rather than getting on with a nap, I'd look out the window? Or when I'm eating in a good restaurant, rather than getting on with my meal, I'd stop chewing food and stare at you just to mock you?

Answer
You are wearing a stupid scarf, the cultural meaning of which you have half an idea of.

Inevitably, I will go, "Pre, bakit? Malamig ba? Feeling mo ba may winter dito sa Pilipinas?"



Question #5
Why is it that when I'm boarding the plane, instead of just getting to my seat, I take my time looking at you?

Answers

1. I am caught off guard by your hideous Indiana Jones hat and the bald white guy you are with (which makes me ask the question, "What kind of BUSINESS is this girl into?")

2. I am utterly irked by your wearing a gigster cap

Question #6

Why is it that while in the airport, I might be on my way to the carousel to get my bag, but I will be stalled on my way by the sight of you?

Answers

1. You are wearing a blanket as a cape? (Superman, isdatchu?)
2. Your girlfriend thinks that cowboy hats have made its way back to the fashion mainstream

Question #7
Why is it that while hearing mass, I might look like I'm in deep reflection, but really, I'm reflecting on something miles away from spiritual enlightenment?

Answer
You're wearing a pair of sandals which is so typically jologs.

Question #8
Why is it that while in the mall, rather than busying myself with the ongoing sale, I'm more interested in looking around and staring at you?

Answers

1. You are an idiot whose outfit was inspired by a watermelon
2. The girl next to you has a ridiculous fashion ensemble

Question #9
Why is it that even while I surf the net, instead of keeping to news and current affairs sites, I am more interested in googling random things for a chance to INADVERTENTLY stumble upon your Friendster account?

Answers

1. Your barkada picture gives me sheer joy. It makes me want to listen to the Tagalog version of Low. Or the Tagalog version of Umbrella. Or just any Salbakuta song.
   

2. I love it that you are friends with celebrities.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!