MAYBE I watch too much “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation” that I find our own police investigators funny, to be generous with my comments. The more I watch this monster hit of a television series, the more I wish I lived in Miami, New York, or Las Vegas where forensic experts solve crimes in less time than it takes for your evening coffee to get cold.

In this show, everything in the crime scene is a valuable piece of evidence. Every particle of dust, the way the furniture has been moved, the lipstick stain on an empty cup, the way the wind blows to the east, they all say something about the guilty one. Even a burp smells of somebody’s DNA.
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THE first thing I do upon waking up is turn on the AM radio and listen to the news.

It’s a habit I acquired from my years as reporter covering the police beat. Although I hate it because it interrupts my sleep, it gives me the heads up on what’s the day’s news on a daily basis.

The problem is that at six in the morning, I’m asleep and awake at the same time. This means that sometimes I interpret what I’m hearing on the radio as continuation of an interrupted dream, or nightmare, depending on the news.
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Last weekend, I and the wife had an amazing encounter with modern prenatal technology – the 3D Ultrasound. Yeah, I know, 3D ultrasound is ancient technology. It is 30 years old.  For all I care, it could have been invented by obstetrician-gynecologist dinosaurs to determine the sex of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. But when it’s your baby right there being scheduled for the first photo op of his entire amniotic life ever, all technology in the world becomes modern and high tech, and beautiful.

So we decided to have this 3D thing for the same reason as those of other expectant parents: to determine if we’re not expecting a dinosaur. No, just kidding. But yeah, we wanted to take advantage of this technology that would tell us if there was nothing wrong with the baby inside. We would count the fingers and the toes and examine the nose, etc. Oh, it’s grandpa’s nose. No, it’s lola’s nose. Stuff like that. And on a deeply personal note, I wanted to know if the baby was not sucking at a bottle of beer instead of his thumb.
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FOR ALL the romance and sadness it evokes, rain the past days is not cute. With just the right amount, rain makes you want to stay in bed all day and think only of nothing but love and getting plenty of it.

If you’re a girl, rain makes you feel like you’re Mary Jane Watson in that what’s-the-big-deal-about-it upside-down-kiss scene with Spider Man. If you’re a boy, you’d feel like you’re a teenager in 2002, flushed with excitement at the sight of Kirsten Dunst in a wet shirt.

Do you know why you don’t imagine yourself as Spider Man? Because you’re grownup and you know a real hero doesn’t waste precious time kissing a girl upside down when all the thugs in the world are out to get her, especially if she’s Kirsten Dunst. I’d kiss Kirsten Dunst right side up anytime, rain or shine.
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DEAR Mr. President,

Mr. President, I read the news today. And I said, Oh boy. It’s about a lucky man who made the grade. And though the news was rather sad, well, I just had to laugh, Mr. President. I know you’re a fan of the Beatles, like me. Sorry if I had to steal lines from one of their songs. I’m not very good at writing letters, so I wrote whatever came to mind.

I don’t know why “A Day in the Life” came to mind after reading the news that you bought yourself a Porsche. Maybe because the song is about a young politician blowing his mind out in a car after he failed to notice that the lights had changed. Then there was that crowd who just stood and stared even if they’d seen his face before. We both know what happened to the character in the song, Mr. President. He died in a car crash before John Lennon could even get to the third verse.
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THAT a lot of people don’t like the police is not surprising. The public and men in uniform (including the military) have always been inimical to each other. The public thinks cops can’t be trusted while cops think the public is so damn right. So the police created a non-crime related office called Police Community Relations (PCR) to convince the public they’re friends.

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.
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Nexus S 4G Accessories is the ultimate accessory store for the brand new Nexus S 4G for Sprint.  If you are on sprint and you are looking for a phone that is powered by android and backed with a lot of accessories, You have come to the right place.  Sprint has launched the Nexus S 4G with Nexus S 4G Accessories for accessories.

NOW let’s talk about babies. Not that it’s Christmas, although we’ll get to that later, but because I’m an expectant father and everything that’s in my head right now are images of babies and baby stuff as I watch The Partner’s tummy grow bigger each day. In three months’ time, we will meet our firstborn face-to-face, and I expect our baby to flash me the Devil’s Horns, or the rock-and-roll hand gesture, as his/her first official act as the newest member of the human race.
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CHANGE your profile picture to a cartoon character from your childhood and invite your friends to do the same. Until Monday (Dec. 6) there should be no human faces on Facebook, but an invasion of memories. This is a campaign to stop violence against children.

But we’re sorry to tell you that you can’t use Pinoy cartoon characters because they are so ewwwww. You are the children of this generation with Justin Bieber as your cultural icon, so please don’t use anyone from this list called “Insoymada’s Top 10 Pinoy Komiks Characters:”

1. Kenkoy–Tony Velasquez’s Kenkoy is the first komiks superstar. This hilarious portrait of the Filipino, trying but always failing to keep up with his American mentors, was born in the Liwayway comics in 1929.

When you say, “I so love my BF because he is so kenkoy,” you now know where the word came from. And you jejemons out there, Kenkoy’s been there, done that with his trademark lines like “Halo, how is yu?”, “watsamara” (what’s the matter), “dats oret” (that’s all right), “nating duwing” (nothing doing), “okidoki” (okeydokey), “lets tek ewok” (let’s take a walk), “is beri nesesari,” and “bay gali.”
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YOU know the moment has arrived when you look at your food and you think you’re having balbacua when you’re being served caldereta.

Me: Wow, balbacua! My favorite!/ Host: Ahm, sir, it’s caldereta. / Me: Really. Oh, I love caldereta too.

This bothered me because only a few years ago I could tell if it’s ants on my adobo or black pepper. Now, I have to use my sense of smell to make sure it’s pan de sal I’m dipping in my coffee instead of some round and brown tropical fruit like chico zapote.

So I did what any normal guy scared of the prospects of poking his nose into the world and living the rest of his life like that would do: I went to have my eyes checked by an eye specialist.

If you haven’t met one yet, an eye specialist is an extremely well-trained medical professional who lives in a mall, preferably in a dark corner of an optical shop, who thinks she’s a dentist in that she has this huge, scary-looking chair and all those scary looking equipment on standby in case she needs to gouge your eyes out.
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