(I’ve been asked to give talks, mostly in campuses, on how to be an effective writer. For those who made the right decision not attend those talks, the following is a summary of my advice. I’m serious)

NOW a few tips on how to write an effective letter.

1. Keep it short and to the point. Make it concise, factual and focused. Don’t exceed one page or you will lose your reader.

2. Focus on what the recipient needs to know. Imagine him seated accross a table from you. What essential information does that person need to know?

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Drug users have this amazing  talent for coining slang words for their drug experiences. There’s no formal agreement on their usage, no Academy to officially declare “spatula” as slang for any drug that has an officially funny name, like Box of Kittens.

If you don’t know Box of Kittens, it is a drug used as a treatment for cardiovascular disease caused by boredom. Possible side effects include sneezing, tiny scratches and erectile dysfunction, says Dr. John “J.D.” Dorian of “Scrubs.”

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A NEWS item that came out in this paper last Sunday had me googling the words “videoke” and “killings.” Just when I thought videoke violence is nothing but media exaggeration caused by a dearth of newsworthy events on weekends, this story about a stabbing inside a videoke bar in my hometown of Pinamungajan convinced me the Aquino administration should now create a task force to investigate videoke killings in the country.

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This is one article I wish I was writing under a pseudonym. Why? Because ours is a culture that finds certain innocent words referring to some parts of our anatomy “obscene.”

The words I am referring to are penis, genitals, orgasm, ejaculation, masturbation, and other terms that you, with your puritan upbringing, wish did not exist at all. And more than just the brute force of the words themselves, this article will evoke images of male sex organs being fondled by massage therapists in some dark spas in the city. So don’t say I didn’t warn you.

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Radioactive Sago Project

TMANSMFKPR* — Tangina Mo Andaming Nagugutom sa Mundo Fashionista Ka Pa Rin

Radioactive Sago Project

Terno Recordings, 2007

anybody with a copy of this album? can’t find it sa record bars. manghuwan ko kadyot. free missing filemon shirt for the generous one.

Tuhog sa Ihi. Check this story out at superman’s urine dot com.

I’M STARTING TO SERIOUSLY DOUBT if this column is contributing anything to the betterment of society. This column’s blog version has been attracting readers whose idea of a life well lived is collecting weird stories from across the globe and emailing them to me. I have become the repository of the world’s odd, stupid and outrageous occurrences. If you think that is helping the cause of the Dalai Lama, then I’m the Queen of Sheba.

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Thanks to friend and former Sun.Star colleague Aledel Gonzalez for sending me the following report.

KINSHASA (Reuters) – Police in Congo have arrested 13 suspected sorcerers accused of using black magic to steal or shrink men’s penises after a wave of panic and attempted lynchings triggered by the alleged witchcraft.  >> Read article here

I wouldn’t have wanted to post anything about rectums here because that part of our body has suffered enough already. But there’s an aside in the VSMMC scandal that helps us newsroom people cope with the stupidity of it all (we look for something amusing in the news, or we won’t survive this kind of job). In cases like the VSMMC scandal, the media is not allowed to name the victim, so we assigned a name for him. But when you have several media outlets covering the same story and assigning a name to the victim, confusion starts.

Sun.Star calls the victim “Janjan” – at his request.

Cebu Daily News calls him “Danilo”

Balitang Bisdak calls him “George”

One radio station calls him “Mr. Florist”

Balitang Barbero (that’s the general public for you) calls him “Bayot”

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I arrived late for a meeting with a Korean client (yes ‘client,’ kay publishing consultant man kuno ko niya). Ug ang Koreana pwerteng sukoa.

Koreana: Lurinthoo, what happen? I come far just see you here Ayala. And you? And you? Late to come!

Me: I’m so sorry J (that’s her name, for Jaimee). It was heavy traffic in Mambaling.

J: Baling? You say home in text. Now Baling?

Me: Mambaling J. It’s where I live. It’s far from here, and I don’t have a car.

J: Aaargghh, Lurinthooo. Three already. Me here two. You hour late Lurinthoo! Me no car also, but taxi.

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Our Korean friends never seem to run out things to amaze us. First there was the mysterious V sign, next they jumped on each other in some water cliff down south (a sad chapter in our province’s korean-dominated tourism industry), now here’s this news about them celebrating what they call Black Day, where lonely hearts drowned their sorrows in black noodles. And they’re serious about it. If you commiserate with our flamboyant neighbors, read kagul-anan gilumsan sa noodles.