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.

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.

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!

My Starbucks Hitlist: Deconstructing the Starbucks Crowd [Holiday Edition]

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…Jack frost nipping on your nose…
Although It's been said many times, many ways…
A very Merry Christmas to you.


There is something about Starbucks during Christmas that makes it more conducive for studying. Yes, I know how geekish of a statement that was. Nerd tendencies aside, though, I might not have grown fond of devoting so many hours for studying, but Starbucks in December makes the idea of studying more appealing to me.

The soft play of classic Christmas songs, the aroma of the Starbucks Christmas brews, and the cold breeze of December (or maybe just the AC) make up a good mix of lethargy and energy.

Unfortunately for me, there are other idiots who find the Christmas Starbucks appealing to them as well. Fact of the matter is, Starbucks actually fills out with MORE idiocy during the holidays than usual. You would think that the Starbucks crowd is homogenous throughout the year. For some reason, though, the usually annoying Starbucks parokyanos become extra annoying during Christmas time. It is as if the warm and fuzzy Christmas atmosphere is actually a breeding ground for nuisances.

As much as I would like to wallow in my Starbucks holiday zen, it would only take a seemingly enigmatic but annoying idiot to irk me and ruin everything for me. If in, say, March or August, it took me a few minutes to lose my cool upon seeing the Korean Mob or hearing an Enunciator, in December, it will take me half the time. Given that analogy, ladies and gentlemen, you don't have to be a genius to figure out that in December, however relaxing Starbucks actually is, I will be more irritable than usual. There may be less species of idiots than the rest of the year, but by god, are they quality idiots—definitely worthy of a bullet. Or two.

Presenting...

My Starbucks Hitlist (Deconstructing the Starbucks Crowd): Holiday Edition


Starbucks Holiday Nuisance #1 DOUBLE STICKER ABUSERS

Desperate times call for desperate measures. That is if by "desperate times" you mean a desperate need to get the Starbucks planner and if by "desperate measures" you mean staking out until a specific time just so you could get two stickers instead of only one.

Tell-tale signs (You know that one is just a double sticker abuser if:)

1. You see a person sitting at some table, without a cup of coffee in tow, seemingly waiting for someone
   
2. That person stakes out at that table for an extended period of time
   
3. Suddenly, as the clock hits a particular hour, the person stands up and heads for the counter
   
4. The person excitedly finishes his/her purchase of one choice Starbucks beverage and enthusiastically extends his/her promo card to the barista
   
5. The barista puts not one, but two promo stickers on the card.
   
6. The person makes out a smile that extends from ear to ear
   
7. [On some rare, but highly possible, occasion] the person, while waiting for his/her order and upon hearing another customer tell the barista that he/she is not collecting promo stickers therefore he/she will waive his/her rights to the stickers, musters enough kapal ng mukha to tell that other customer, "Okay lang, akin na lang ang stickers mo?"
   

I don't think Starbucks still has the promotional campaign this year, but the kind of people such a promo produced in 2007 deserves a spot in my hitlist.

In the minutes leading to the select hour, Starbucks was usually filled to the brim with eager beavers. Those who were obviously delaying their purchase until such time that they could finally avail of the double stickers promo. It would have reminded you of how French Baker looks like half an hour before closing, when all of their pastries are marked down to half off. Well, at least the guys over at French Baker are waiting for the bread. The Double Sticker Abusers, on the other hand, would kill their own young and are simply waiting for stickers, for a free planner. Wow, right?



Starbucks Holiday Nuisance #2 THE BRITISH GRADUATE ISKOLAR

It's funny when Madonna pretends to have a British accent. But if a fugly, social-climbing creature does it, it would call for violence rather than humor.

For this particular nuisance, I would rather dispense with the usual enumeration of the tell-tale signs. Let me just begin by giving you a visual to aid your imagination.

Save these images in your head, okay? Now imagine this idiot engaging in conversation with the baristas, as he was unaccompanied and had no one else to talk to. Imagine him holding extended monologues about himself and what he does. Imagine him and his trying-to-be-a-female voice causing all this verbal ruckus…wait for it…wait for it…in English. Not just in plain English, with a run-in-the-mill American or even call center agent accent. Imagine him talking in a cheap British accent. Imagine the baristas, upon hearing such a unique accent, ducking under the counter to make faces or just give out a laugh.

Freak:[in his British accent, translations in brackets] I'm finish-aing my MA the-suhs [thesis] in YUPEHEY [UP, as in University of the Philippines]

Xtin: [SOLID NOSEBLEED yet in thought] POCHAH. Seriously?

I was enjoying a zen-like state in Starbucks Trinoma when I inadvertently overheard this idiot talking in a British accent. I was wishing so badly I had not heard the cheap accent. It was so disturbing that got into a blackout of sorts. I wasn't absorbing anything I was reading. I wasn't even tasting the goodness and richness of my coffee. I was trying to fight my first instinct of hitting him at the back of his head. I even tried to discreetly record his voice, but to my dismay, my recorder failed me. I ended up just taking a picture of him. Nice outfit, by the way.

It is also worthy of noting that the British bastard had a UP 100 jacket. At a point in time, he was wearing it over his shoulders, like a shawl, in such a way that the front part of the jacket [which had a blaring UP 100 written across it] was exposed for everyone to see. To my mind, he had to do that. He had to wear his jacket that way to broadcast that he belonged to a reputable educational institution. Otherwise, no one would think that he was educated at all. Who would? By the way he was acting and talking, of course, no one would have mistaken him as an ivy leaguer. "Social climber" would have easily popped in their heads. At least, that was what popped in MY head.

British pala ah. Coño ka ba kamo? Talaga lang. Eat shit, my friend. Eat some fothermuckin' shit.


Starbucks Holiday Nuisance #3 HOLIDAY DOUCHEBAG

P're, question…Malamig? Usher isdatchu? Or is it Chris Brown?

Tell-tale signs (You know he's a holiday douchebag if:)

1. He walks into Starbucks in his winter get-up, with a swagger of a champion
   
2. We're not in the US therefore, there's no winter
   
3. The winter outfit is nonetheless justified by either the AC or the cool December breeze
   
4. You feel the sudden urge to strangle this guy with his makeshift scarf
   

Gahd. After a number of posts on it, this might sound so cliché, but I sure do hate douchebag fashion. What annoys me even more is the fact that the coldness of December gives them some sort of reason to wear their horrendous style choices. Look at him:

He looks so comfortable, leg rested on the armrest, hand placed on the hat, body tilted to forming a convenient pose and all. He seems unaware of the impropriety of his outfit.

The scarf sure looks good—good enough to be a noose, right?


There you go. This might be the shortest hitlist of them all, but the nuisance factor is truly on a higher notch during the holidays.

Now that those nuisances are past me, I can now proceed with sipping my hot drink, sitting comfortably in my seat, and studying in my lovely Starbucks corner. I'm putting on my earphones now and shutting the rest of the world out, lest another nuisance walks in and breaks all hell loose.

[See other Starbucks Hitlists here]

Oist, magsitahimik nga kayo! [Shut your pie hole!]

You know you’re a Filipino if…

...You tail an ambulance just to beat the traffic.
...Instead of "I beg your pardon?" you say "Ha?"
...You're always late.
...You ask people you have just met how many children they have and what their spouses do for a living.
...You stand out because you talk and act loudly and with exaggeration.

I opted to begin with quotes from “You Know You’re a Filipino If…” because this book puts in a plain and humorous manner those annoying Filipino habits which would otherwise be considered politically incorrect to mention out loud. The last one is admittedly my original, though.

Political incorrectness is that particular defense against those who choose to not go blindly when they see Pinoys acting in an, well, unorthodox manner. Most people, Pinoy and foreigners alike, do not easily get away with criticizing these quirky Pinoy habits. Take Malu Fernandez as an example. She made unprecedented comments about OFWs she was with during a flight she took on her way to Greece [and back]. In the article she wrote, she said:

However I forgot that the hub was in Dubai and the
majority of the OFWs (overseas Filipino workers) were stationed there. The
duty-free shop was overrun with Filipino workers selling cell phones and
perfume. Meanwhile, I wanted to slash my wrist at the thought of being trapped
in a plane with all of them.While I was on the plane (where the seats were so
small I had bruises on my legs), my only consolation was the entertainment on
the small flat screen in front of me. But it was busted, so I heaved a sigh,
popped my sleeping pills and dozed off to the sounds of gum chewing and endless
yelling of “HOY! Kumusta ka na? At taga sann ka? Domestic helper ka rin ba?”
Translation: “Hey there? Where are you from? Are you a domestic helper as well?”
I though I had died and God had sent me to my very own private hell.On my way
back, I had to bravely take the economy flight once more. This time I had
already resigned myself to being trapped like a sardine in a sardine can with
all these OFWs smelling of AXE and Charlie cologne while Jo Malone evaporated
into thin air.All in all, it’s been a pretty good summer. Jetting from the
Aegean Sea to the Pacific may sound a bit pretentious until you wake up in
economy class smelling like air freshener. [source]

In yet another article:

As all of you know I have just returned from a wonderful holiday in the
Mediterranean. To cut on some costs for this impromptu vacation I was forced to
fly economy class which I absolutely do not wish on my worst enemy. I was,
however, encouraged by my travel agent to try out Emirates since it won the best
economy class, so with great trepidation I flew on Emirates via Dubai,
completely forgetting that Dubai is the hub for all the Filipino migrant
workers. Call me whatever you like but when you are trapped in economy class
that is filled to the brim with migrant workers the smell gets a little funky
after nine hours of flying. [source]

It has been months since the article was emailed to me. The mood of that forwarded mail was contempt towards Ms. Fernandez. And it was indeed contempt that I felt. There truly was a glaring feeling as if she was singling out OFWs and that she hated them or at least being with them. However disturbing her article was, I could not help but ask if, even by some small possibility, could she have been just saying the truth? Something so condescending and politically incorrect, but the truth nonetheless??

Just last month, true enough, I think I began to see what Ms. Fernandez was incriminated for saying.

I was on my way to the KLCC airport to catch my flight to Bangkok. I took a shuttle bus from the city to the airport. I took the front most row in the bus and, since I saw that the bus was hardly half full, I comfortably occupied even the seat beside mine. A few moments before the driver closed the bus doors, two familiar faces boarded the bus. It was a man and a woman, maybe in their early 50s, who had skin color similar to mine. I knew that I didn’t have an idea in the world who the man and woman were, but they were nonetheless familiar.

“Buti na lang umabot tayo,” the man told the woman as they occupied the seats just behind mine.

“Ah,” I thought, “Pinoy pala.”

But the pleasant feeling of affinity only lasted up to that point.

The whole one hour and fifteen minute-trip to the airport, the two were talking, ever so loudly, to each other, as if they were the only ones on the bus. The bus was barely empty and none of the other passengers had the same unrefined attitude as the two which made their irritating and screeching talk and laughter resound all the more. Ang ingay, p’re, sobra! I had my earphones on, but the loud talk made its way to my eardrums, disallowing me a brief rest to alleviate a migraine I have been having the whole day that had just passed. I didn’t even pay attention to what silly things they were talking about. Every sound that they made didn’t come to me as comprehensible words so much as they sounded like loud buzzing and ringing.

“My god! Hindi ba sila nahihiya? Sila lang kaya ang maingay dito!” I thought angrily.

And since they irked me, quite a bit, the whole ride to the airport, I made it a point that before we parted ways, I would steal a shot of “BOY AND KRIS”, for posterity’s sake, of course:






*****

A couple of weeks ago, on the other hand, I went to Kota Kinabalu. My friends and I were quite amused at how even in the most remote areas of the island, there were Filipinos. We gladly listened to their stories of why they were working in Malaysia and how they got there. All of the instances, really without exception, when asked where they were from, they would answer “Sulu” or “Zamboanga”, and when asked why they left and migrated to Kota Kinabalu, they would give a reply “Umiiwas lang kami sa gulo [sa Mindanao].”

We understood perfectly where they were coming from. We didn’t pity them at all because of what had happened to them—to have been left no choice but to exile themselves to a land not their own. If anything, we were relieved. The kind of relief that even just a family or two have been freed from the danger of the war in Mindanao.

Safe to say, I developed a pleasant outlook on the Pinoys we met in KK during our stay. But it didn’t take long for some idiots to [almost] ruin that positive disposition.

There I was, walking along the shores of Manukan Island in KK’s Tunku Abdul Rahman Marine Park, when yours truly was confronted by familiar distasteful behavior.

Apple Bottom Jeans, boots with the fur [the fur], the whole club was looking at her…she hit the floor, next thing you know, Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, LOWWW…

I heard the de facto national anthem of the Philippines, Flo Rida’s “Low”, of course, blaring out from some cheap boom box somewhere along the beach. There was no doubt in my mind that I was a few steps away from a notorious pet peeve of mine—Pinoy Jologs.

True enough, a few meters from our table were a bunch of rowdy and NOTABLY NOISY individuals who were partying, dancing, and singing, in broad daylight, mind you, to MY wit’s end. At that point, I could only assume that they were Filipinos because I have yet to obtain any confirmation to that effect.

As if on cue, I walked past the group and two beer-bellied half-wits started singing some Tagalog love song. You know how that goes…at the very moment a girl passes by, these machismo Pinoy epitomes of tambays acknowledge her and pay tribute to her beauty by intentionally-but-unintentionally singing, in a patent lasenggo volume, some love song like “Ang halik mo, na-mi-miss ko…”

After the guys finish their short song number, the rest of the group screams and breaks into patent inuman ng mga tambay tuwing pista behavior. They didn’t know, of course, that I could understand, perfectly well, all their remarks and comments they were shouting at each other. A couple of those statements were about me.

I walked away from this mob, but as I was doing so, I took one more look and noticed that at least two girls, in their two-piece swimwear, those with culottes as bottoms, dancing atop their beach table, ala Julia Stiles in 10 Things I Hate About You. I looked around, but none of the other vacationers were engaged in such bakya pandemonium.

It also didn’t help that they were a not-so-attractive bunch. Matabungks outfits for the girls. Beer bellies for the guys. And of course, Tighty whities ala trunks for the most not-so-attractive of them all.

Nakakahiya, ‘di ba? What? Hindi ka nahihiya? Well, ako oo.

Well maybe the wisest thing for me to do at this point is to just desist, lest people out there would crucify me, as they did Malu Fernandez. I could say that I find similarities in my view and Ms. Fernandez’s. Noisy and unattractive people annoy us. We both turn this annoyance into criticism and sarcasm that form part of our humor. But a stark difference is that nowhere in this post will it seem like I am singling out a particular group of Filipinos. When I say Filipinos are infuriatingly noisy and seemingly lacking of discipline, I don’t mean OFWs, rich, poor, adults, kids, men, or women. I mean that we ALL have a tendency to display such behavior. It is not because we are actually undisciplined. Uneducated. Or unrefined. That is because we are not.

It is just how we Pinoys are. We can be irritatingly quirky sometimes, but we are pleasantly entertaining most of the time. Nakakahiya, oo. Pwede ding nakakairita. Pero madalas nakakatawa lang talaga.

[cue boisterous Pinoy laughter]

My Starbucks Hitlist: Deconstructing the Starbucks Crowd [Part 2]

Do you have your rifles ready? Okay, then. Let's see what other kinds of people we'd find and want to shoot in Starbucks.

# 6 BOOM BOX (BF, Katipunan, Rockwell, Trinoma)

Get some earphones, idiot.

Tell-tale signs (You know these idiots are in the house when:)

1. The normally relaxing music in Starbucks is suddenly overpowered by some other song, typically unbecoming for Starbucks
   
2. You look around to try and see where the sound is coming from and realize that it's coming from a stupid gadget
   
3. The gadget is spewing out music at a rude volume level, typically requiring of earphones
   
4. You stare at the idiot down who owns the gadget and see that he's enjoying the music and that he also might even start dancing or singing along to his heart's content.
   
5. You suddenly acquire a most unwelcome LSS (last song syndrome—Apple Bottom Jeans, boots with the fur [the fur], the whole club was looking at her…she hit the floor, next thing you know, Shawty got LOW LOW LOW LOW LOWWWW)
   

I like "LOW" as much as the next person, you know. But when I'm in Starbucks, I'd rather bask in the mellow ambience of the establishment. I do not pay P100+ for a cup of coffee just so I could listen to your rendition of some Cher hit. I do not go there just so I could witness a showcase of your new laptop and media playlist. I have my own, thank you very much. And, unlike you, I can afford earphones, dumbass.

I couldn't care less if you're into hip-hop, house, RnB, or pop. I won't give a crap if you're into Fi[f]ty Cent, Celine Dion, or Salbakuta. I won't mind, really. But that doesn't mean you could thrust upon me your poor taste in music. More so if it is coming from some cheap contraption of yours. Tutuktukan kita, eh.




The losers in the video, aside from being a one-cup-for-all-all-for-one-cup gang, came to Starbucks Rockwell with their little el cheapo MP3 player, blasting Ne-Yo's "With You" (replay the video and you'd notice that you could clearly hear the song playing from their table). Gahd, people, can you be more lame? If you want it so badly to look like gangsters, at least play true gangster music, not luvey-duvey love songs by cutsie RnB singers…I like the song, yeah, but it's people like these losers who turn the songs I love into cheap and jologs novelty songs.


#7 ENUNCIATORS (BF, Katipunan, 6750, Gateway)

I swear I don't want to eavesdrop, but the loud mouth in the next table is making life difficult for me.

Tell-tale signs (You know if these loud mouths have arrived when:)

1. There's a pair or group of people in the next table who are in deep discussion
   
2. One member of the pair or group is noticeably talking at the top of his/her voice, enunciating
   
3. You are thrown off your concentration
   
4. You suddenly feel that you've become part of the conversation going on in the next table
   

It's nice that people like to talk to their friends. What's not is that I'm not a friend, but I could still hear, LOUD and CLEAR, what the F the other table is talking about. Thanks to the resident loud mouth. Don't get me wrong, though. These enunciators have kept my stay at Starbucks very interesting. Not only do they impart little life lessons [sarcastic cough], they also are funny as hell. Hilarious. Ridiculous.

This is the Gamer-Enunciator and friend. I came across the two of them a couple of months ago. The guy in the striped shirt was waiting for the other guy and when the chubby guy arrived, all hell broke loose. The chubby guy, aka the Gamer-Enunciator, spent what felt like three hours discussing in full detail and complete passionate reenactments of his favorite computer game and game techniques. Pow. Bam. Kaplow. He was enunciating every little game advice he was giving to his friend that I felt that everyone else in Starbucks that day became a better gamer, even just a bit. Of course I had squat of an idea of what he was lecturing his friend on. I could not even quote a complete sentence from him because I had no idea what he was talking about except that I knew that it was a computer game. That is just why the whole thing became more unbearable for me. I wanted to go to their table, smash a bottle on his head, and say, "Shut up, geek!"


#8 WHERE'S THE PARTY?-PEOPLE (Katipunan, Valero)

I was not aware that Starbucks had a dress code. Party attire mandatory.

Tell-tale signs (There is no doubt that the party animal turned up when:)

1. You go to Starbucks in your most casual and comfortable, close to homey, get-up
   
2. A group of people enters, each member wearing some retarded outfit announcing to everyone that he/she has just gone from a major party, with one wearing an item of clothing in gold
   
3. The group moves around like they're on a catwalk of sorts, with one or two of them almost always on the verge of giving a killer pose and as if wanting to be watched in slow-motion
   
4. The whole establishment seems to stop in its tracks
   
5. You suddenly feel inadequate and underdressed
   

A huge pet peeve of mine is fashion victims. I don't like it when people dress up inappropriately, more so if they do and think that they could pull the stupid outfit off. I hate it when these retardates go about the earth as if every place they go to is one big event. News flash, genius: it might've taken you half a day to put that look together, but even long hours couldn't keep you from looking fugly. And, going to Starbucks in that joke you call an attire makes your punch line more hilarious.

#9 CAFFEINE-LOVING PARENTS & SUGAR-RUSHED KIDS (BF)

There's a reason why Jollibee has a play area and Starbucks does not.

Tell-tale signs (You know if the Goin' Bulilits from hell are in when you:)

1. Are having a peaceful coffee-break
   
2. See that an evidently married couple walks in with their adorable little girl or boy
   
3. Notice the kid/s enjoy all the chocolatey goodies they could get their hands on
   
4. See a couple of banshees jumping up and down the place
   
5. Suddenly realize that there no banshees, only the adorable kids who have escaped the supervision and authority of their parental units and have decided to run amuck

In the picture, I caught the kid making his KSP act just so his mom would look at him. After a few minutes, true enough, this same kid was running around the store and the mom couldn't care less of the havoc his unreasonably rambunctious kid was causing.

Kudos to family time. But if you know that you can hardly control your kids, don't bring them to an adult place like a coffee shop and have them run around like crazed gremlins, let alone feed them sweets and goodies that will induce a sugar rush. You know you're not bad parents, but it sure as hell makes it hard for everyone else to see you in the same light when your issues are being irritatingly noisy little brats. If you're not one who'd strap your kids on a leash, do us all a favor and not give them sugar.



That'll be it for now. Don't despair, though. I'm sure I'll be spending a lot more time in Starbucks and there'll be a whole lot more opportunities for people-watching and idiot-bashing. I might even see the people who have been part of the hitlist and give you unprecedented updates. Until then. I'm sure it won't take me a long while.

Part 1 of Starbucks Hitlist

Starbucks Hitlist [an update to part 1]

A couple of months have passed since the time I promised a second installment of my Starbucks Hitlist. I’ll be making good my nasty promise in a few weeks or so. Really. Need not worry. But before proceeding to it, I think it is only fitting to revisit Part One of my hitlist and give you some updates. I know you want it anyway, wehehe. Have your pistols ready, then.

KOREAN MOB slash ALL FOR ONE CUP, ONE CUP FOR ALL

These Kimchi Martians (pun intended, sorry) were very much on the freeloading prowl again. All these pictures were taken in a span of 6 hours in Starbucks BF (as expected). The air was filled with their back-of-the-throat murmurs and gibberish. There was excitement as if there was a birthday party of sorts. And, to my surprise, there indeed was. They occupied at least one-third of the tables and when this one girl entered the store, they broke into what I could only fathom as the Korean version of the birthday song.

NOTE THAT NOT ONE OF THEM, NI ISA MAN LANG, ORDERED ANYTHING FROM STARBUCKS. TABLES ARE TOTALLY EMPTY. COURTESY TOTALLY LACKING AT THIS POINT, EH?

The nerve of these people really. WALA na ngang mga order ang mga ito, nasikmura pang magkakanta at mag-celebrate ng birthday party? Wow ah.

Kill me, please, kill me.

ALL FOR ONE CUP, ONE CUP FOR ALL: PINOY (JOLOGS) VERSION

These Jay-z posse wannabes, douchebags really, were also caught freeloading. And you thought only foreigners have the nerve to do this shameless deed. Pinoys are precisely more notorious at it, mainly because most of us have the tendency to social climb and, at the same time, be parasitic. Take these idiots as examples. They were a group of at least five, I think, and only one of them bought a cup of Starbucks coffee just so they could be seen hanging out at the café. Honestly, they were misplaced in the area. For one, they wore these cheap-thus-hideous gangster get-ups. Two, they even had this little mp3 player that blasted what they thought was gangster music (this is a separate category in my second installment of this hitlist…coming very soon). Talk about JOLOGS. No wonder. Freeloading is simply their second nature.



CAMERA WHORES

Recall in my original post that I included pictures of camera whores who were not the STEREOTYPICAL camera whores, as indicated by the tell-tale signs (teeny boppers taking their own pictures, etc.)? Well, I’m very proud to say that I was graced with the presence of THE STEREOTYPICAL CAMERA WHORES… teeny boppers, bangs, Frappucinos, and all. Batteries not included, though.

Sighting happened in Starbucks Greenhills Theater Mall. Good thing these girls only took a few shots. Had they taken one more shot, I would’ve hung myself then and there.


THE BROKEN-HEARTED AND THE SHOULDER-TO-CRY-ON

When I came up with the first installment of my Starbucks Hitlist, in speaking of “the broken-hearted and the shoulder-to-cry-on”, what I had in mind was the image of two females, one distraught and broken, the other so eager to listen and supportive.

Upon a subsequent visit, though, to Starbucks BF, this particular hitlist category has somewhat evolved. Apparently, males also can fill in the shoes of the broken-hearted and the friend-in-time-of-need.

The two guys, to cut it short, were obviously gay. At first, I thought they were talking about some business venture or something. The problematic between the two of them was sitting nearer the window in a baby blue, starch-crisp polo. I say problematic because it was evident in his tone of voice. I could readily sense his infuriation and frustration by the way he squeaked at the end of his sentences.

I was listening in to their conversation not because I wanted to, but because, again, it was hard for me NOT to overhear them. And of course, it became a little more interesting. It was, I must say, a truly unbelievable conversation.

Background: The Broken-hearted Gay apparently had, just recently, broken it off from his boyfriend. This boyfriend of his was Chinese. His boyfriend’s mom supposedly found out about their relationship and, him being pure Filipino, was completely unreceptive and suspicious of him. And so he says…

Broken-hearted: Grabe, talaga ang mom niya. Noong nakita ako, sinabi daw n’un mom niya tignan daw ang butt ko, baka meron daw akong [insert unintelligible terms].

Shoulder-to-cry-on: Omaygad…

xtin: [thinks] Nakupo! Why in the world did I have to hear that? Why, lord? Why?

Unbelievable? Believe it. I’ve heard about airing dirty laundry in public. But his was literally filthy.

Dishing out these updates only confirms how on-target the tell-tale signs I’ve come up with in identifying these Starbucks dwellers are.

So…shooting spree, anyone? Oh, wait. Not just yet. Wait for the second installment of the hitlist, that way there will be better chances for us to actually bring someone down. Hehehe.