PAMUHUAN Festival in Pinamungajan is one celebration that will be a subject of future debates, at least among the town’s residents and history buffs, as to whether it authentically represents the town’s origins.

If tradition is to be followed, ‘bunga’ is the root word of Pinamungajan, not “pamuo,” as the festival suggests. It’s “bunga” to the town’s old folks and thugs, fish vendors, the naughty barber across the church plaza, even the parish priest who has spent more than half of his life hearing the confessions of the town’s sinners.

It’s “bunga” to the natives.

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I’m choosy when it comes to friends, that’s why I only have few. Most of them are characters — mga palahubog, laagan, kiat, way libog, way paki, artists, prosties, pimps, adik, zombies. They made it to my short list because of two things only: they don’t speak ill of others, and they have an unquenchable thirst for life (and beer).

I wish I could say the same thing about “friends” in cyberspace. But cyberspace is an imagined world in virtual reality. Everything that happens there should be understood in that context.

So, here’s a list of people (see under “barkada” on the sidebar) who fit that definition of cyberfriends. Some of them I know personally – our shared corner in the blogosphere is just a confirmation of the friendship we already share in real time. Most are, well, virtual friends who might be speaking ill of their own mothers as we speak. Whatever. Let’s keep returning the visit.

I’m doing a research on the leader of Cebu’s revolution against the Spaniards in 1898 for a project that’s under wraps for now. Might need your help. You can give me the juiciest, oddest, most outrageous, most intriguing trivia you know of this underrated hero and his soldiers.

Did you know that he and the rest of the Cebu Katipuneros shouldn’t be touched by women lest their anting-antings lose their power? Something like that. If you can include your source, so much the better.

Email your trivia at insoymada@gmail.com or drop it here as comment. A round of Red Horse is all I can offer you in return. Mabuhay ang Rebolusyon!

Wanted to comment more about this whole dancing inmates thing, but no. These guys are Ech’s friends. Besides, this photo is pretty damn good. Grabbed this from http://ang babayeng wa pul-i sa iyang gibuhat.

We’ve been hearing complaints about media highlighting only the bad news. “Noted,” the mediaman says, resumes work and features the rape of a 75-year-old grandma in the front page of the next day’s issue. But there was actually a newspaper that featured good news only. I found this article while surfing the net. Let’s see what happened to that paper.

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Here’s cutting on beer for the coming weeks – Asus EEE PC (well, not exactly the one in the photo. Mine is black). But what the heck. Lonely boy needs a new toy. Happy Friggintine’s Day to me.

Here I go again, flaunting my adulation for cheesy love songs… (do I hear toilet flushing in the background?)… Can you imagine a world without cheesy love songs? No, you can’t. Because cheesy love songs are the soundtrack of our lives. Where were you when this cheesy song was number one… one… one… one? In the toilet, of course, crying over a crush named “Pimple With a Face.”

Cheesy love songs define who we are, determine what we eat, what underwear we wear on pay day, what day we pick our nose, what time of the day we fart. Oh yes, cheesy love songs are the total eclipse of our collective heart, the wind beneath our collective wings… our forest primeval… our… OK. I’m done.

Check the list out at http://sound of toilet flushing

For this particular column, I’ll be asking a special consideration from you my dear readers… HERO KASI NIYA SI RIZAL. GUSTO YATA NIYANG MAGPABARIL SA LUNETA AT IPAGTAYO NG REBULTO… It is Valentine’s Day this Thursday. And like any respectable columnist, it is my journalistic obligation to write at least one Love column this month… BACK OFF!

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The country is in shambles, Mike Arroyo is still the President, Kris Aquino continues to irritate, my girlfriend’s dog remains missing and here I am talking about a food item from a faraway place called Kentucky. But that’s exactly the point when you come to think of it. Sometimes you just have to pour your energy into something more productive, like surfing the net for nothing in particular.

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One good thing about surfing the net is that every now and then you come across articles that confirm some of your strong beliefs about life and stuff, especially stuff. Me, I always believe fecal matters mutate into some kind of aliens the moment they leave our bodies and that they’re just waiting for the right time to start an invasion.

I once brought this up with my editors, who promptly dismissed me as nuts. When septic tank cleaners dropped dead one after another a couple of years ago, septic tank experts came up with a stupid theory that said accumulated fart caused the deaths. Nothing was farter, I mean farther, from the truth. It was weapon-slinging poo-poos giving earthlings a taste of a much greater destruction soon to come. If you think I’m joking, read this article about splashing poo-poos: http://alive-alive-my-poopoo-is-alive