Like any police office, the PCR is composed of cops. But instead of going out in the streets to hunt for snatchers, PCR cops visit crime-prone communities and wear stupid Santa hats during Christmas, bringing gifts to little rugby boys and girls, who will eventually grow up to become big rugby boys and girls.

But I will not digress. As I was saying, the public has a general distrust for police, and only man’s ability to think twice is preventing civilians from attacking policemen whenever they meet in the street. But when it’s a bird that attacks cops, something about the country’s police profession must have gone terribly wrong. You must really suck at your job if you are hated by not just humans but also cassowaries, turkeys, ostriches, hens, roosters, ducks, geese, golden pheasants, common pheasants and other poultry animals.

The news over the weekend said four policemen in Zamboanga City suffered injuries after they were attacked by a cassowary at the training field of the Philippine National Police Regional Training School. A police official in the region said the four cops were attacked “one after another” and were “no match for the cassowary.”

Meaning, while the angry bird was pummeling one policeman, the other three were so busy wondering what a “cassowary” is to mount a counterattack.

One policeman: “Aaaaarghhh. Help! Help! I’m being attacked by a bird called cassowary!” The other three policemen: “Casso what?” Since there were four cops in the incident, the scene was acted out four times, with some modified lines like “Aaaargh! Get a dictionary, quick!”

So while the cassowary was beating one policeman after the other, the poor cops learned that “the cassowary is a very large flightless bird native to the tropical forests of New Guinea, nearby islands and northeastern Australia. The Southern Cassowary is the third tallest and second heaviest living bird, smaller only than the ostrich and emu.”

Before the cops could start wondering what an emu is, the cassowary hopped back to its nest in a nearby aviary and gave high fives to fellow cassowaries.

In fairness to our beloved police, the Zamboanga incident wasn’t the first recorded cassowary attack on uniformed men. My intensive research showed cassowaries have a reputation for being dangerous to the military too. In fact, during World War II, American and Australian troops stationed in New Guinea were warned to steer clear of them. They can disembowel a trooper with one kick, my research said.

Engr. Rene dela Cruz, head of Zamboanga City’s General Service Office and in-charge of the aviary, said “the bird seems to be angry with people in uniform and we are still wondering why.”

The PNP is at a loss on how to deal with this latest threat. It doesn’t have a Police Birds Relations office. Its men are not trained to run after criminal birds. Should they handcuff them? Would the Miranda Doctrine apply?

Policeman: “Duck, you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.

Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”

Duck: “Quack!”

(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?

3.Use simple language. Your letter should be straightforward, clear and precise. Use short sentences. One sentence one idea. A paragraph should have no more than three sentences. Use language that is familiar to the intended recipient.

4. Reread and revise. Make a draft then review it. Put yourself in the place of the addressee. Imagine yourself receiving the letter. How would you react to it? Would it answer all your questions?

5. Check spelling and grammar. Your letter is an extension of yourself. Sending it with spelling and grammar errors speaks of a sloppy and unprofessional letter sender.

Below is an example of an effective letter. It was found abandoned in a bar in Manila years ago and has since been preserved in its original form. After a friend from UP Cebu emailed it to me last month, I thought it best to share the classic with you.

October 1996

To Marjie,

I am not surprise or wander why Dennis leave you. Why? What reason you can think about but you’re very fat body. I thought before that dennis can only use me to his toy but sooner and later I’m realize that he really can’t not beared or stomached to be with you anymore because at first, Dennis say he could not stand you’re habit of making paki-alam all his walks [lakad]  and always calling to their house what he go home or this or that. And then he say he get ashame to met iether in school or in his family and then asking you to exercise you’re very very, very fat body. But you hate it. Thoughth your the most preetiest girls he knows about. What do you think you are “Beautiful Girl” of Jose Marie Chan?

Even you are beautiful face (to your think) you do not have the right to called me whatsoever or else different name one time or the other for the real purposed to insults my personality because I’m never call you names iether in the front of Dennis or in the backs of Dennis, but if you start already to calling me a different name, I dont have any other choice but to call you other different name to.

Like you are a PIG, FAT, OBESSED, OVERWIGHT, AND UGLY SHAPE girl. Shame to your body that is to a BUDING. You can’t not blame Dennis for exchanging you to me because I am the more sexier than you when you look to us in the mirror. I’m repeat again that you are like Ike Lozada when she is a girl.

Love,

The Sexiest Girl of D.M.

P.S. You say that I’m the bad breathe but who is Dennis want to kissed.

Me or you? You or me? And the final is me. There you go.

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.”

No, there’s no global drug-naming summit of sorts. What drug users do is tell each other, while in their most loaded state, “Hey, there’s this snappers snowbird speedball that I took last month, and I’m still on devils poppers heaven. I think it’s called Gluey the Sticky Phooey.” And the other drug user says, “Yeah, cool. Let’s call it Gluey the Sticky Phooey.” And the name catches on like wildfire until the police launch an investigation to find out if Gluey the Sticky Phooey is not actually a phrase from a Michael Rama speech.

Michael Rama: “In this times of troubled economy, it’s just fitting and proper, in the context of unity, brotherhood and the Cebuano sense of synergy and leveling, that there will be togetherness in making things happen, because in this fleeting world of ours, the forces of evil are strong, like gluey the sticky phooey.”

Take “milkshake” for example. Police are investigating the popularity of “milkshake” among drug users in Barangay Kamagayan. “Milkshake” has killed six drug users in Kamagayan and it is suspected more are dropping dead as we speak. “Cover all angles, leave no stones unturned, for in this fleeting world of ours, even milkshakes can mean death to the dreams of our tomorrow,” Rama told the police.

So the police went to work and found out that: A milkshake is a sweet, cold beverage which is made from milk, ice cream or iced milk, and flavorings or sweeteners such as fruit syrup or chocolate sauce. Milkshakes are usually served in a tall glass with a straw.”

When the investigators stumbled upon this next valuable information, “Creamy Pudding Milkshake, 3/4 cup milk, 1 tablespoon instant vanilla pudding, 2 tablespoons chocolate syrup, 2 scoops vanilla ice cream; directions: Combine all ingredients in blender and blend for 20 seconds or until smooth and frothy,” they knew they were going the wrong direction.

Police realized they didn’t have to be literal in their investigation; and stumbled upon another priceless information: Milkshake is slang for “a girl’s body and the way she carries it.” Excited, the police dug deeper and found out that: “Milkshake” is a song by American R&B singer Kelis from her third studio album in 2003, Tasty.  The song was released as the album’s lead single, and became Kelis’ biggest success to date.

Music, R&B, drugs, there has to be a connection somewhere. So investigators decoded the lyrics: “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, And their like It’s better than yours, Damn right it’s better than yours, I can teach you, But I have to charge.”

This could only mean: “My whipped ice dairy drink brings Derek Ramsey and Piolo Pascual to my house, and they discover its quality far surpasses that of yours. Absolutely, it far surpasses that of yours. I can give you the recipe, but you have to pay.”

Interpreting the lyrics correctly, police took their investigation to Kamagayan, where they should have started in the first place, instead of Google and Urban Dictionary online. In Kamagayan, drug users taught the investigators how to mix the deadly cocktail drug made from painkillers and methamphetamine.

Then they reported their findings to Rama, who said, “You see? The Cebuano sense of synergy and leveling is actually and in actuality …“ But we’ve run out of space.

SUN.STAR CEBU. JULY 31, 2010.

If it happens in Pinamungajan–or Timbuktu, or Ittoqqortoormiit, Greenland–it happens everywhere.

The task force should be handled not by policemen or NBI agents but by musicians, particularly lyricists. You call the police or the NBI when it’s about drugs, or alcohol, or guns, or Joavan Fernandez. But when it’s about videoke violence, call the songwriter. Unless our law enforcement institutions include “Lyrics as Cause of Violence” in their training, drug raids and checkpoints will never solve videoke killings.

This is Google Research I’m talking about, the most reliable source of information for very serious researchers, like college freshmen and humor columnists. My comprehensive Google research told me video killings are intimately linked to the lyrics of the song that caused the fight. Take “My Way” for example.

A dozen articles dissecting the lyrics of “My Way” crop up when you google “videoke killings.” If you think I’m making this up, here’s an excerpt: “The number of killings connected to singing of the song (My Way) may simply reflect its popularity in a violent environment…The song’s ‘triumphalist’ theme might also be a factor.”

“The lyrics of ‘My Way’ increase the violence,” the study continues. “The lyrics evoke feelings of pride and arrogance in the singer, as if you’re somebody when you’re really nobody…It covers up your failures. That’s why it leads to fights.” The typical Filipino irritates.

It makes sense. Remember the last time you went videoke-ing with your friends, and there’s this guy in the next table singing “Making Love Out of Nothing at All” with all the braggadocio he could muster and you were so damn annoyed by it? Of course you don’t blame the lyrics. “I know just how to whisper/ And I know just how to cry/ I know just where to find the answers/ And I know just how to lie” is down pat annoying but only because you hate Air Supply to begin with.

You want to blow Hitchcock and Russell and their legion of fans to smithereens, not that drunk in the next table. And we’re not talking about the Bee Gees yet.

Now, imagine that same guy screaming, “For what is a man? What has he got? If not himself–Then he has naught…The record shows I took the blows. And did it my way.” Man, that guy’s annoying!

In fairness to Sinatra, he didn’t write “My Way.” It was Paul Anka, who re-wrote it from the original French, which he described as “a bad record, but there was something in it.” That “something” is murdering videoke singers all over the country. Creepy.

The Pinamungajan incident offers an additional twist to the videoke rage phenomenon. The song is not “My Way,” thank God, but Fred Berame’s Cebuano classic “Samtang May Kinabuhi.” In the context of the videoke rage in the country, the song sounds equally creepy.

No, we won’t dissect Berame’s lyrics right now. We’re running out of space. Besides, I hear somebody singing “My Way” at the videoke bar outside, and I have a mission to fulfill. Give me that gun now.

By Insoy Niñal
Sun.Star Cebu, July 20, 2010

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.

Here’s what. Last Oct. 1, the Business Section of this newspaper carried a story about how an official from the Spa and Wellness Association of Cebu (Swac) was protesting against the operation of spas offering “lingam” massages here. Swac president Johnie Lim said “lingam” massage is not bringing a good name to Cebu.

What kind of massage would give Cebu a bad name? “Lingam massage is considered a massage technique performed on all parts of one’s genitals. The word ‘lingam’ is the Sanskrit word for penis,” wrote Sun.Star Reporter Nancy Cudis. You heard the word right, my dear – penis.

I was not frustrated that Cudis didn’t provide more details about lingam in her story, other than writing further that the massage “is a two-hour service for about P900, involving a one-hour body massage and another hour of ‘sexual’ massage on the genitals.” I could imagine the struggle Ms. Cudis, a recipient of this year’s Cebu Archdiocesan Mass Media Awards, had to go through just typing the words “penis” and “genitals” in her story.

If a story with the words “penis” and “genitals” should be allowed to see print, it must be of crucial interest to the public. Indeed. Imagine all of Cebu’s men – husbands, boyfriends, sons, grandpas, tanods, councilors, the clergy, the Marines – going to lingam centers every payday. Lim himself narrated how a wife begged him to do something to stop lingam spas from operating. Either her husband, or son, or driver is a lingam disciple.

I did my own online research to spare you the trouble of googling “lingam.” A few clicks and here’s what I gathered: “Orgasm is not the goal of the Lingam massage although it can be a pleasant and welcome side effect. The goal is to massage the Lingam, also including testicles…”

More clicks: “The setting and your attitude are what make a Lingam massage a special experience for your man. Prepare a quiet, preferably dim, space with a bed, a futon mattress, or a blanket and pillows on the floor. The temperature in the room should be a little warmer than normal because you will both be nude.”

And another click: “Then, as a show of respect for his male power, ask permission to touch his Lingam. Simply ask, ‘May I touch your Lingam?’

One more click: “Pour a small quantity of oil on the shaft…” And one more click: “Then imagine using an orange juicer…”

And one final click, this time a video: “Access Restricted. Sign Up Now.”

Not one to give up easily, I clicked a related video: “This video has been removed due to terms of use violation!”

Oh, well. You can have your lingam. I don’t have P900 to spare, anyway.

By Insoy Niñal

Sun.Star Cebu
Oct. 6, 2009

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.

Tell me what to do with this story, for example: a shop assistant was almost crushed by a lump of frozen urine which fell 33,000 ft. from a plane and landed at her feet. The email sender couldn’t have made this up because he included names and numbers in his report. And as always the case in news reporting, names and figures make a story credible. Reader: “This must be true, look there’s a date.”

The shop assistant’s name is Joanne Bojas, 25, from Chelmsford, Essex. The plummeting lump weights 44 lbs. Don’t ask me how he measured the package when it must have definitely exploded into smithereens on impact. But there’s a believable quote from the victim: “It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, it’s… it’s frozen wee-wee!!!!”

Or this one: Three teenagers were arrested after two of them told police they dug up a secluded grave north of Houston, removed the skull from the coffin and converted it into a marijuana bong. I smoked marijuana before and lived not far from a cemetery, but I was never this disgustingly adventurous.

A ‘bong’ by the way is a water pipe for smoking weed or other potent drugs, like Astro cigarette. I said ‘bong’, not ‘dong.’ We’ll come to ‘dong’ later, promise.

More on wee-wees and poo-poos: Two men were rescued in an African town after they fell into a 10-foot septic tank they were cleaning. The septic tank cleaners were plunged into the dung after a bracket gave way, causing the collapse of the platform they were standing on.

The workers were covered up to their necks and were rescued after – and this is the real news – 30 days of screaming Poo-poo! Poo-poo! And here’s the quote from one of the victims, telling reporters of the lessons he learned from the foul experience: “When you’re up to your nose in shit, keep your mouth shut.”

Are you still there? Good, because the next story is one whose accuracy I cannot question because it was emailed to me by friend and former Sun.Star staff reporter Aledel Gonzales. This is this column’s ‘dong’ part that I promised you two paragraphs ago.

The report said that police in Congo last month arrested 13 suspected sorcerers accused of using black magic to steal or shrink men’s penises. If we have cell phone snatchers here, they have penis snatchers there. Reports like these are not unusual in West Africa, where witchcraft is widespread and body parts as altar offerings are common fare. They go, “Almighty, here are the bellybuttons of our firstborn. Have mercy and send us rain.” But police believe it’s purely economic. It’s like, “Hey, I just shrunk your penis. Give me that bowl of soup for restoration fee.”

And talking about orifices, there’s this report about a gay person who walks around town carrying a spray canister inside his…. What? It’s been discussed already? Oh, sorry. Please email me something more recent next time. Thanks.

sun.star, may 13, 2008

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”

Imagine what happens if there are five news patrons talking about the same story, each following the news separately in the five media outlets mentioned above.

Might go something like this:

“Have you heard the news? The names are out already. Janjan will have…”

“Janjan? Why name only one doctor? What about the rest of the medical team? It’s unfair to Danilo?”

“Hey guys. Janjan, Danilo, they’re all the same fucking doctors with different names. They deserve a Coke Litro up their ass. Naming them won’t undo things. They have done irreparable damage to George.”

“Wait, wait. Are you talking about Mr. Florist?”

“I think it’s Dr. Flores, not Mr. Florist. Be careful with names. And besides, si Bayot ra gihapon ang ma-blame aning tanan. Nganong ipasangil man nato nilang Janjan, Danilo ug kinsa pa na diha?”

Hmmm… nice idea for a column (hehehe).

Still on the topic. You think we Filipinos have exclusive rights to rectal scandals? Here’s another medical case involving the poor rectum. read leave my rectum alone.

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.

And this went on for about 15 minutes. Me explaining about traffic, she giving me a puzzled look every time I mentioned Mambaling.

Me: I’m sorry J. It will not happen again.

J: Better not happen again. Now work.

Me: OK, good. Now, I brought with me the printouts. There are some names of persons and places that were not very clear to me. Can you check your notes?

J: Not very clear? This not complete? You mean? (Waving the papers at me). You the editor, and this not complete?

Me: Yes J. We talked about this already. I edit your raw, but it doesn’t mean I know all those persons and places you mentioned.

J: You editor Lurinthoo, you Cebuano. You know place.

Me: No, J. It doesn’t follow. I’m Cebuano but I don’t memorize the names of all the barangays and barangay officials in Cebu. It’s impossible. It was you who joined the Suroy-Suroy Sugbo and you took down notes. Just check your notes, please.

J: OK, OK. I get notes.

Me: Naa raman diay na. Haskang dugaya.

J: What Lurinthoo?

Me: Nothing. I said traffic in Mambaling is getting worse.

J: Lurinthoo, we work already. No more Baling. OK? OK? No more Baling.

Me: OK J. No more Baling. Me, you, work now.

K: Good Lurinthoo, good.

Me: Pero grabeha na gyud sa traffic sa Mambaling oi.

J: Lurinthooooo!!!!