Archive for March, 2008
Last week was probably the most meaningful and spiritually enriching Lent for me so far. As I toured the towns for the Visita Iglesia (which consisted of me stopping in front of churches and proceeding to the nearest sari-sari store for beer), I discovered that our public comfort rooms had become so user-friendly as to have signs that read: “IHI = P3.00, LIBANG = P5.00.”
ASIDE from feeling hopeful for Cebuano films, I left last week’s Sine ug Katilingban at SM City enriched with lessons on how to avoid crying when watching a tearjerker movie. I unfortunately belong to the species that until now can’t accept the fact that it’s okay to cry in public. It’s a gender thing, this public display of tears. Until this macho myth that falsely defines the male ego is erased, I can use the tips the next time I found myself watching a Sharon Cuneta classic.
I’VE BEEN IN many death-defying rides my whole reckless life, but nothing comes close to the habal-habal experience.
To those who don’t know what a habal-habal is, it’s a beastlike, three-legged, hairy creature that crawls on its belly, ready to devour snobby urbanites like you. So stop reading this column, finish your orange crème frappuccino and leave us to our petty, bucolic indulgence.
I WASN’T SO EXCITED about last year’s edition of Pinoy Big Brother for the simple reason that everybody went gaga over it. You see, I tend to do the opposite of what everybody does. If you go straight, I step back. If you go left, I go right. If you go right, I go wrong. As a result, I missed the national experience of watching a peepshow in the comforts of the living room.
More and more cities around the world are cracking (har!) down on saggy pants. I heard some cebu city officials (too old to show butt flesh) are thinking of drafting the same ordinance here. Hip-hop fans, I may not agree with your drop-pants butt-crack philosophy (it will be the embarassment of your youth ten years from now. hahaha) but you have the right to unite!
Next target: Skinny Jeans, for uneven distribution of fats.
MANILA – The Department of Education’s Committee on the Promotion of the English Language Through Beauty Pageants and Other Funny Activities issued yesterday a memorandum urging all schools to hold more beauty contests to arrest the decline of English proficiency in the country.
The time I spent transcribing this could have been spent on beer. It’s Sunday. But it’s OK. This is the greatest moment in our country’s beauty pageant history.
HOW TO WIN IN THE BINIBINING PILIPINAS PAGEANT
Host: Number 15, Janina San Miguel. Janina, how are you?
Janina: I’m fine.
Host: Alright. So you won two of the major awards – best in long gown, best in swimsuit – do you feel any pressure right now?
Janina: No, I don’t feel any pressure right now.
Host: Confident! Alright! Please choose a name of a judge…. We have Ms Vivienne Tan.
Tan: Good evening.
Janina: Good evening.
Tan: The question is what role did your family play for you as candidate to Binibining Pilipinas?
Janina: Well, my family’s role for me es so important, becos… der was dow, dir, dey was da one… whoo’s…very… haha… oh, I’m so sorry. Um, my pami-ley, my fami-ley… oh my God. I’m… OK, I’m so sorry. I, I told you dat I’m so honfident. Eto, ahmm wait: Ahahahaha. Um, sorry guys becos des was really my perst pageant ever! Because I’m only seventeen years old. And, ahaha-hee. I, I did not ikspek dat I came from… I came from one of da taff ten. Hmm… So… but I said, dot… my family es da most important persons in my life. Tenk you.
(Another old article supposedly for repost here last month. In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m storing here all my old columns along with the recent ones before I totally shut down my googlepages account)
AS a serious columnist, I feel it my obligation to write only about things that matter, like siopao, hanging rice, beauty pageants, hip-hop, things that life can’t do without.
I feel it my duty to be relevant, to write about flowers in May, weddings in June, reindeers in December and love in February. Any writing done in February that leaves out love in its prose does the reader injustice.