Tuesday, June 23, 2009


Walking and looking for the famous Iloilo biscocho and other whatchamacallits when I was in Iloilo the other week, I saw a Villa Estrella in one of the streets. When a news came out of some similarly named estate claiming to be disparaged by the upcoming horror vehicle, I surmise it was that. I didn't even bother to take a picture because I would run the risk of posting it here and then I could be in some really big trouble. What I learned though is that while marauding in unchartered streets, you run the risk of stepping on poop. You're busy looking at everywhere.
I recently learned that Anne Curtis, my only favorite artista whom I'm crushing on for a long time, swoons over Bloc Party. You know... Bloc Party ba... I like the band, who happens to be, again, British, though not as ultimately, ultimately as Anne. It's another straw to my liking her more. Did I mention I got to meet her? She doesn't remember me of course. Back when she spent hapless, unfortunate days as a stereotyped talent in that other network. Gosh, this is senseless.

Saturday, June 06, 2009


If life was only lush and smooth as any Nat King Cole song. But then it isn't and so I listen, if only to assuage whatever. Oh not really. I'm just digging this album, thanks to Mark, who I know will be a great DOP someday, or is actually on the process of becoming; Mark my words. Anyhoots, listen to The King's Re:Generations to find out why I feel joyous and coked up even though I'm in a sometimes boring workplace. Listening to tracks with masterful re-mastering of Lush Life (which I compare to woozing from a binging escapade; you can even hear the sagitsit of the vinyl on the turntable, fuckin' brilliant) and Day In Day Out. Traces of Brazilian beats overflow in most of the concoctions like The Game of Love and More and More of Your Amour. At the rate it's going, Mr. Nat over here might give Frank and Michael a run, for my abused eardrums.

Monday, June 01, 2009

boobtube boohoos

What is the most schizo show on local TV today? Roughly translated, it's us two, if you get what I mean and if you watch it in the first place. Oh I do catch it sometimes, and there's no point really trying to battle it out with the rest of the household because the goddamn TV that we have is such a crap. By crap means 5 channels. I don't really know if there are a dozen of schizo shows out there on local tv but I can single out the star-studded ABS show that smacks accolade-naming right in your face if only to compensate how lame-ass the "main stars" are. One minute is like a badly drawn dramatic sketch but then you really couldn't say if it is what it depicts itself to be or maybe a fucking comedy because the joke is really on us. You thought a particular moment was great acting, like in the case of Jake, who I think does better in some scenes than Amboy Gerald who delivers his lines in spasmic gasps you think he's dying or something like a bad case of hiccups. But then who are you kidding really. It's the usual disposable junk they churn out. And of course, there's Kim Mantis whose idea of acting prowess is through crying a Ganges river of tears. But what's the point right? Who gives a damn for people who appreciate 30 Rock, because they practically have cable tv anyway, or like me who have to resort to buying bootleg. Which I think I'll have to talk about in another entry because it's really fucking hilarious I can't even begin to cite which episode.

On a sidenote, I think I just came. Shit, the day ends fantabulously at least. A friend just forwarded to me Fat Segal's full version of the Skins theme, which is already too much since I was just looking for the 26 second version of it. I'm on a unit in a friggin' net cafe because martial law has been deployed on anything related to download at the office. So I asked my friend over YM to download and email it to me. So I'm like listening to it now and having a friggin' time of my life. In Cassie's words: lovely. And she's drugged and has not eaten in three days.

I'm suppose to continue on another boobtube boo-hoo but it suddenly, wait... yes, another freak of nature, Papa P, sang the Idol song this year on ASAP. The show is kinda so-so compared to crap they put up in the other channel. Fuck, he sounds like a balloon out of helium that I can see the veins on his neck on the verge of eruption. Plus, why do they even let him sing? Even Martin wasn't any good. Proof that we should refrain from being too updated because it would just suck, and they sound like phonies singing something which they think would make them cool and hip. Again, pointless inquiry. Ladies, people, would put up with it, notwithstanding.

Should I talk about the recent AI results? Well it's not really recent but I would just like to say that I predicted Kris when he sang Ain't No Sunshine. I think that's 9 weeks before the big showdown. Like when I predicted it to be Cook when he did that awesome version of Billy Jean, that was way before the Always be my Baby craze. Again, 9 weeks before he crushed Archuleta. I dunno if that says something.

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a f—king big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f—king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f—k you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f—king junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f—ked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?

Renton, Trainspotting