I have two confessions to make. But we’ll go to them later.

It took me weeks to decide to mention in this column the most puzzling singing group of all time: Village People. The mere mention of the group here will alienate younger readers who didn’t have the misfortune of enduring songs like “Macho Man” in their childhood. On the other hand, failure to do so will disappoint older readers who look up to Village People as the personification of their gay fantasies. They’ve been emailing me to please write about George Michael too.

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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.

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