Tuesday, November 30, 2004

More Humor Therapy: Taxis and Billboards

On the way down from Tagaytay, I saw the following taxis: “Barely Here” and “21/21 Vision.” With the first one you’re not sure if you flagged down a taxi. And maybe the owner of the second taxi thought if he added one to perfect vision, he’d be, uhm, more perfect?


There’s a billboard along C-5 going to Pasig from South Superhighway. It advertises Ricky Reyes’ Milk Rebonding Treatment. It shows two women with beautiful hair, one slightly older than the other. The headline reads: May gatas ka pa sa labi, may gatas na ako sa buhok noh!

Manay Ricky, you really should stop writing your own copy. Ganda mo kasi, lolah!

Monday, November 29, 2004

Loss And Laos

Hay naku, I just came back from a Tagaytay weekend with the family and I have a whole day shoot on Tuesday so I’ll just try to squeeze this in this Monday evening.

We arrived in Tagaytay Saturday early evening. After dinner we stayed in a friend’s house which we borrowed for the long weekend. It’s a beautiful house, the company is great and I was looking forward to a great vacation.

I normally don’t go to Sunday mass anymore, but since I was with the whole family I joined them for the 7am mass. Afterwards, we decided to go to Breakfast by Antonio’s. When I got inside Orlando, I noticed the glove compartment was open. My wallet was missing. I asked my nephew, who was sitting at the front passenger’s seat, if he remembered me placing my wallet in the compartment. Poor kid was still sleepy from an early morning mass; he just mumbled, “I don’t remember.” I went to my mom in the other car and told her I may have left my wallet in the house. She offered to foot the breakfast bill first. So we proceeded to Antonio’s.

When we got past the Tagaytay market area, my hand fell on the space by the handbrake where I was very sure I placed my digital camera this morning; Ollie wasn’t there. Immediately I flashed the hazard lights, parked Orlando on the side of the road, and went to the passenger’s side and examined the door. There was a dent just below the handle, like a screwdriver was forced under it. That’s when I was sure—someone had broken into Orlando and stolen my digital camera, my wallet and my office cellphone!

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

I don’t just feel bad. I feel so stupid for leaving them in the car. And I feel so violated every time I see that dent on Orlando’s door handle.

Why did I leave them in the car in the first place? I’ve done that before, but I was quite sure Orlando was in a safe parking area (the office basement parking, for example.) I think I was lulled into thinking nothing bad could happen to Orlando because I was parked in front of a church, for crissakes!

Luckily my other brother who followed us up to Tagaytay that Sunday morning also brought along my Nikon camera, so I was still able to shoot pictures of our Tagaytay vacation. When he handed the camera to me, my brother joked, “Baka ayaw ni Lord na mag-digital ka!”

I think ayaw Niya na magsimba ako. Minsan lang nga ako mag-a-attend ng mass, mananakawan pa ako.


Isang malaking PAKSHET talaga, o!

Mamatay sana yung nagnakaw. Mamatay sana ang kanyang buong pamilya.


We went to the Tagaytay PNP headquarters to report the incident and ask for a police report, since my driver’s license was also in my wallet.

The policeman at the desk was named Rosas. He was instructed by his superior to take down my story in the police blotter. For some reason Rosas insisted on writing down my story in English. Unfortunately he lacked English writing skills. He was having a difficult time coming up with words—I had to supply him the words and help him out with the spelling.

After a while his superior went up to him and told him, “Sabi ko nga isulat mo muna sa scratch para hindi madumihan yang blotter natin!” I glanced behind me and saw my two brothers stepping out of the precinct, giggling. Mr. Superior looked at Rosas’ report and said, “O, ilagay mo diyan: ‘Said perpetuator broke into the vehicle and took the following items, to wit—’ Ilagay mo diyan, ‘to wit’!”

I looked down at my feet to stop myself from bursting out laughing. I looked behind me; my mom was giggling uncontrollably. I had to look away.

Later on Rosas was asked to watch over a prisoner staying in their holding cell, so another police officer took over getting my statement. He was a lot better; he remembered to ask me what kind of car I was driving, where it was parked, the name of the church—those kinds of pertinent information. After he got my story, he went inside the office to type the report on their computer. We waited outside.

45 minutes later he was still not finished with the report. What was taking him so long? Then I saw him step out of the office and go into another one. I followed him to ask him how long we still had to wait. At the doorway I stopped; he was flipping through a Tagalog-English dictionary! I held my tongue and went back outside to wait.

After ten more minutes I had the report in my hands. As we were leaving, my mom shook her head and said, “These people should be properly trained!”

I replied, “Ma, these are the very people tasked to protect us all.”

Mom said, “At least we had a good laugh.”

“Yeah. For a while I almost forgot I had stuff stolen from me.”

For humor therapy, go to your nearest police precinct and ask for a police report.

Saturday, November 27, 2004


The following is something I posted on the bulletin board of the TA website way back Jan. 6, 2000. Nahalungkat ko lang ang nakaraan.

Onstage, the banner read, “Unang hirit sa bagong milenyo: Miss Gay Millennium and Group Dance Contest.” I thought, aba, kauumpisa pa lang ng milenyo, may Miss Gay for the whole millenium na!

Talent portion—a contestant speaks before his number: “Kami pong nasa ikatlong kasarian ay madalas inaalipusta at inaapi dahil sa hindi pagunawa sa amin. Kaya ko po idini-dedicate ang kantang ‘to para po sana mamulat ang mga isipan ng mga tao....”

And then he starts singing a capella: “So many nights, I sit by my window, waiting for someone to sing me his song....” He procedes to finish singing You Light Up My Life habang kami sa audience ay tulala: “Ano’ng connect ng song sa speech niya?!”

As usual, may kumakain ng apoy while dancing to the tune of “I Need A Hero” by Bonnie Tyler (a perennial favorite among fire-eaters) at may extemporaneous speech in English that’s full of subject-verb disagreements, nakaka-tense na tenses, at mispronunciations: “My God- (dramatic pause) given talents is different from the udders. I will not sing, I will not dunce, I will not uckt! Instead, I will a-temp to do an extemporaneous speaking, ladies and gentlemen!”

The rest sang, danced and acted; almost all sucked.

Don’t miss the Miss Gay Marikina (especially the talent protion and Q&A) next year!

Thursday, November 25, 2004


I am alone but not necessarily lonely. I have friends, I have a wonderful family. When it comes to emotions, I am wary. I rely more on my mind than my heart. That lends well to comedy, but as a dramatic actor I am lousy. I am friendly, but I don’t trust easily. I’m still learning to love myself, but it isn’t easy—just one look at my beel-beel, and my self-esteem nose-dives. At times I come off as a know-it-all, yet I’m painfully aware that I don’t know it all.

Will there be someone who can sweep me off my feet? I think I’m too grounded to be swept away anymore. I fear I may be too set in my soltero ways. If there’s going to be an Other in my life, he will have to be an Independent too.

With my feet firmly on the ground and my tongue firmly in cheek, I will assume the best and hope for the worst.

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

Walang Sabit, Walang Nuance!

Yanny kept looking at me. He’s a friend whom I haven’t seen for quite some time now, maybe two months or so. I saw him and two others last night when I dropped by TA rehearsals. We were all in the dressing room, catching up on one another. After staring for a few more moments in silence, Yanny finally spoke: “I like the nuances of your hair now.”

Nuances? Wow, that’s the most original comment about my hair ever.

Ipe, take a bow.

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Quiz Time!

You Are the Peacemaker


You are emotionally stable and willing to find common ground with others.

Your friends and family often look to you to be the mediator when there is conflict.

You are easy going and accepting. You take things as they come.

Avoding conflict at all costs, you're content when things are calm.

Oh My, It’s A Tuesday Already?!

Paking shee-yeth! Monday passed by in a blur, and today I’ve hit the ground running at 9am and it’s only now that I’ve had time to pause and go on The Show.


Busy, busy bee is me! Suddenly my team is loaded with work. We’re given a project that has yesterday for a deadline (so what else is new?) So now the whole project is like a runaway train barreling out of control and we’re just hanging on to it, trying our best to steer it to the path we want.

Times like these, I need a Juicy. Times like these, I get an email entitled “The Greatest Advice.” It’s a Desiderata-like piece, full of life lessons. Actually, a lot of it makes perfect sense, which is why I’m sharing the more relevant ones here in the hopes that certain people (you just know who you are!) will realize the truth to these words.

Thus, I present to you, selections from THE GREATEST ADVICE:

Don’t date because you are desperate.
Don’t marry because you are miserable.
Don’t philander because you think you are irresistible.
Don’t associate with people you can’t trust.

Don’t sleep around because you think you are old enough and know better.
Don’t stagnate.
Don’t regress.
Don’t put life on hold for possibly Mr. / Mrs. Right.
Don’t throw your life away on absolutely Mr. Wrong because your biological clock’s ticking.

Learn a new skill.
Find a new friend.
Start a new career.
Sometimes, there is no race to be won.
Only a price to be paid for some of life’s more hasty decisions.

Don’t bring another life into this world for all the wrong reasons.

Get rid of destructive elements: abusive friends, nasty habits, and dangerous liaisons.
Don’t abandon your responsibilities but don’t overdose on duty.

Be true to yourself.
Don’t commit when you are not ready.
Don’t keep others waiting needlessly.

Take care of yourself. Don’t wait for someone to take care of you.
You light up your life.
You drive yourself to your destination.
No one completes you—except YOU.


After that profundity, let’s go kababawan!

Before and after:

Thanks to the wonderful scissors of Ipe! Mwah!
(Actually nag-shave na rin ako, so clean-cut na ang beauty ng lola n’yo.)

Friday, November 19, 2004

Text Friday

Today is just sooo weird. Today I received seven text messages from seven different people, people whom I’ve not been in touch with regularly. What a coincidence that they all got in touch with me today.

Is Someone trying to tell me something?

Is There An Echo In Here?

Several days ago at the gym after showering, I turned the corner to the locker area when—there he was. Dressing up as if no one was there, he was half-way putting his shirt on. I saw his very smooth, surprisingly light skin, tight abs, pinkish nipples. I looked away before he could catch me staring.

I headed for my locker which happened to be just above his. Since his locker door was ajar, he quickly moved to close it. “Oops, sorry!” he said to me, smiling. “Excuse me,” I smiled back. Inside I turned all jelly.

Tangina! Ang cute mo, Jericho Rosales!

Okay, okay, normally I’m not easily star-struck these days. And of the five Hunks it’s really Papa Piolo for me and no one else. Carlos Agassi looks like a Lie-la Dee, while Diet, though good looking, has the blankest eyes ever. (Which is why bitchy pundits say he and Kristine Hermosa are a perfect fit—together they’re Fill In The Blanks.) Echo (as he’s fondly called by showbiz insiders) was always for me just a talented actor with a pleasant face. I couldn’t get why my other officemates go gaga over him.

I got my stuff from my locker and went to the other side, leaving him to dress up in peace. Despite the great temptation to steal glances at him, I had enough self-control (self-control daw, o!) to give him his much-needed privacy.

After a while he joined me at the vanity area. I was minding my own business when he asked, “Lagi bang ganito dito sa gym?” Skip a beat. Ha? You talkin’ to me, Echo? You talkin’ to me?! Apparently he was trying out our gym because the one he goes to was under renovation. He liked the fact that ours was not as crowded as, say, Fitness First. While chatting with him, I noticed how he turned on the charm full blast—he looked straight into my eyes while talking to me, and he smiled at me like I was the only other person in the room.

Actually I was.

But still. :-)

When he left, I realized why a lot of people go gaga over him—he can dish out the charm in generous doses. And after surviving his charm attack, I too am now officially in love with Echo.

The Galera Diaries 2

Sunday, Nov. 14

When I woke up there was light outside. The guy beside me was still very much asleep, very much naked. I had a chance to take a good look at him: twinkish, early 20s, nice line of hair from the navel traveling down to his pubic area. I could easily get my phone and take a picture of him. Heck, I have my digital camera—I can get a clearer picture! But I stopped myself. The kid was helplessly asleep. I tried to wake him up. He just turned away, still asleep. Oh well, it’s his problem if his friends wonder where he slept. It was till early so I decided to lie down in bed.

A few minutes later he woke up. “Ay, nakatulog ako,” he said. Obvious ba? He put on his pants and t-shirt, and went straight to the bathroom to pee. Afterwards he went to the door and said, “I’ll go na.” He then slowly opened the door and peered out slowly. Without looking back, he quickly stepped out and closed the door.


Because it was Sunday, the Lord’s day, I decided to behave and just bond with my officemates. Riiight.

First we went swimming then we moved on to the rocky area on the left side of the beach. Because of the cliff, there was lots of shade plus it was very windy there. Perfect for relaxation and a pictorial session!


Lunch was the worst experience ever. We had to clean up the table ourselves because the waitress was so busy with the other customers (mind you, there were only three other tables occupied.) After ordering, our waitress came back to us after more than 5 minutes to tell us that certain items we ordered were not available. Then we waited for more than an hour for our food.

In their menu they had chicken adobo and pork adobo. We asked if we can order chicken/pork adobo; the waitress said that wasn’t possible. “Baket?!” one of us asked but the rest were so hungry we let it go and just ordered one of each. Another ordered beef steak. When the food arrived, we found out that all three dishes tasted the same! “Ano ba ‘to?” someone exclaimed, “Pare-pareho lang ang lasa!”

Settling the bill: we gave our money to the waitress. We had 200 pesos change. After a long wait, she comes back with a handful of bills. “Meron ba kayong sampung piso?” she asked. Since I wanted to leave immediately, I gave her two 5-peso coins. One of us counted the bills and asked the waitress, “Teka, bakit ka pa humihingi ng sampung piso? Eh two hundred na itong ibinigay mong sukli!” The waitress look flustered, then gave me back my coins. Someone else asked, “Miss, may change ba kayo sa five hundred?” waving a bill at her. The waitress answered, “Wala ngang barya kaya nga humingi ako ng sampung piso” sabay talikod and walk out.


That did it. We’re never eating in that place again. Ever!


Afternoon rolled by, and so did the rain. It kept showering up until sunset. The others played patintero in the sand under the rain. I decided to just relax and take a nap.

By afternoon the rains stopped, and soon I was back to being Mr. Photographer. Miss O wanted to pose for her Danish boyfriend. I made her channel Kyle Minogue in her poses.


Evening we wanted to get wasted again. This time we had tequila. By the time we finished the whole bottle the others were tumbling on the sand and had giggling fits. And then we headed for the bars.

We were trying to decide which bar to go to when we heard this shrill voice cutting through the noise and clutter: “Kanino itong mango shake, taas-suso lang?!” It belonged to this bartender named Erica, who wore red, had smallish fake boobs and always spoke as if every sentence ended with a question mark. “Kanino itong mango shake, taas-suso lang?!” he asked again. We had to stay at his bar. Good thing too; that night they had imported a DJ from Bath Bar in Malate, so the music there was far better than the rest.

Erica turned out to be not just an entertaining bartender; he could whip up a great Mindoro Slide and an even better Mudslide. Pretty soon we were all tipsy when we hit the dance floor. Eventually there were others, mostly boys (since I was with four girls) who were circling our group and wanted to meet the girls.

After another round of drinks (offered by the boys to the girls), we were all dirty dancing. It was like we were in a bar in Malate on a Saturday night. So much for behaving on a Sunday.

To be fair, none of us ended up with take-homes, although one female officemate of mine had three guys asking for her cellphone number. She gave one hers; by next morning there were seven missed calls and five text messages.

We didn’t stay up very late because some of us were taking the 5am boat trip the next day. So Sunday ended with me being celibate. Relatively.


Monday, Nov. 15

We rode the RORO (roll-on, roll-off) on the way back because all the Brians were fully booked. Good thing we took the RORO; we found out when we got to Batangas pier that the afternoon trips were cancelled because of an incoming storm. Strange, considering that the day was quite bright and no cloud was in sight.


The drive on the way back was much more pleasant, traffic being very light. We stopped over at the new Caltex station along South Superhighway, where we immediately re-acquainted ourselves with fastfood. Ahhh! I had Filet-O-Fish and Twister Fries. Shet, meron yata akong bulate, hindi pa ako busog! So I got me a Zinger sandwich at KFC.

Aaahhh! Instant gratification!

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

The Galera Diaries 1

Saturday, Nov. 13

Six of my officemates left at 6am taking the bus. Taking Orlando, I and two others left at 9am for the Batangas pier. The drive was pleasant, even though it was my first time to drive to Batangas. When we reached Laguna, we took the Star Highway to Lipa.

Have you ever noticed how it seems in every major highway in the Philippines there’s always this huge Aji-No-Moto “bottle” on the side of the road? It’s the most effective and long-running billboard ever, I swear! Where there’s a highway, there must be Aji-No-Moto. And Joyce Kilmer’s “Trees” poem. And the “Crab’s For Sale” signs.


We reached Batangas pier only to find out the boat we planned on taking had already left. We were forced to take one of the MB Brian boats leaving for White Beach at 2:30pm. There are several MB Brians—there’s Brian 1, Brian 2, and so forth. We counted up to Brian 5. The Brians are the motorized boats of differing sizes, all of them with “katig.” They have a lock on the direct route to White Beach. Whoever this Brian is, he must be the Mindoro Boating Magnate.

Two of the Brians on the beach

While waiting for our boat to leave, I saw two guys sitting beside each other, obviously a couple. The cuter of the two was looking at me while the other one had his face buried in a book. I went to the toilet, looking back every now and then. Cuter guy followed me. In the bathroom I fixed myself at the mirror while he stood beside me, eyeing my crotch. Then other people walked in and we had to break off our contact.


MB Brian 3 left Batangas port almost 30 minutes late. Cute Guy with Boyfriend was seated near the front, so I had no chance to make eye contact with him. We arrived at White Beach in Puerto Galera at around 4pm. After settling in the cottages, we hit the beach. My officemates were very considerate—they gave me the only single room! Okay, so it’s the only non-aircon one, but who cares? If I wanted to take home anyone, I had my own rumpus room! We dubbed my room The Sex Den. Memo to me: must find Cute Guy.


If you’re going to order food at any restaurant in Puerto Galera, make sure you aren’t hungry yet. It takes them almost an hour to prepare any and every kind of food. It’s so frustrating especially if you’re used to fastfood-style instant gratification. And you get erratic food quality. The only restaurant that met our taste standards was the Basilica Café. It also took them an hour to prepare the food, but the taste was worth the wait.


I love the nightlife, I’ve got to boogie….

After dinner we hit the bars. We wanted to get drunk and bond. We played Truth Or Dare, with us choosing truth the whole time. We first ordered beer, then a pitcher of Mindoro Sling (their version of the Zombie, I suppose.)

While going to the toilet I spotted Cute Guy with Boyfriend at another bar. He saw me too. I smiled but went back to my officemates.

By the time we finished, we had two pitchers of Mindoro Sling and countless bottle of beer. The others were doing cartwheels on the sand and taking pictures in the water. I slipped out of the group and went back to the bar. The couple wasn’t there anymore. I walked around until I saw them near a row of apartments where they were staying. Cute Guy was whispering to Boyfriend; Boyfriend was sizing me up. Then Boyfriend went into their room. Cute Guy nodded to me and went in, leaving the door slightly open. I walked in after them.


After playing doubles, I went back to my room. By that time the others had retired and were soundly asleep. I was still very much awake at past 2 in the morning. In another cottage a few feet away from mine was a guy who was outside, smoking. He glanced at me as I went up my porch. Maybe he couldn’t sleep? Maybe he just came back from hitting the bars? Maybe he’s interested in putting something else in his mouth aside from a cigarette? So I stared at him; he was staring back. Bingo! No whammies, no whammies! He came over to my porch; without a word, I invited him in. He came several minutes later. Then he fell asleep beside me.

(To be continued. For more pictures, see The Galera Gallery by clicking The McView Point link on the right.)

Friday, November 12, 2004

Oooh, Dinner!

Just had dinner with my officemates at Yellow Cab. We ordered roasted garlic and shrimp pizza (Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!) and their hot wings (Aaahhhhhhhhhh!) I thought of Phillip. Sayang lang nga walang twister fries ang Yellow Cab or walang roasted garlic and shrimp ang McDo.

Coach / Beach

For two whole days I was in a Coaching and Mentoring seminar. Fascinating course; it’ll be interesting to see how I could apply the concepts in the workplace and even outside, especially to people who need coaching on their life goals. You know who you are!


This weekend I’ll be joining my officemates for a major gimmick/bonding session in Puerto Galera. The last time I was there was in the early 90s, so it’ll be interesting to see the place. I know it’s a gay Mecca during (un)Holy Week, but I want to see it first outside its busiest (and hada-est) week.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004


The older I get, the more I value the simple joys of life. Good food, good company, having a good laugh. Most people tend to scoff at happiness as a goal in and of itself. Yes, it is a selfish goal especially if taken to its extreme, which is happiness at all costs. Others believe that happiness is a by-product of achieving one’s goals.

Me? I’m just happy to be happy. I’m happy if I make others happy. It’s so nice to be happy. Everybody should be happy, sha-la-la-la.

This is neither old nor new;
it’s always forever.
Somewhere between sense and ambition,
pleasure and decision,
we have to make a choice—
What do we want?
Everyone singing “War, what is it good for?”
while planning the next one?

It is not easy
but don’t give up now,
It is not easy—
Happiness is an option.

It is not easy,
the war within us;
but it gets easier
the more we learn.

I don’t need to win,
You don’t need to lose.
We can choose—
Happiness is an option.

— Pet Shop Boys, “Happiness Is An Option”

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Performance Level

Any experienced stage actor will tell you that what’s so gratifying with performing before a live audience is that you get immediate feedback. If the feedback is very positive, it energizes you and makes you perform even better. Some of the most electrifying performances happen when the audience and the performers feed on each another’s energies.

Last night at F, the bath house near my place of work, I hooked up with a kid. As in, he claims he’s just 18 years old. Hmm! To be fair, he looked the part: all lean and svelte, no more baby fat, but with muscles still developing. He looked like he was on the cusp of adulthood.

What’s more, he came in with four of his friends and all of them were English-speaking. And with a twang to boot: “Dude, we’re not required to strip in there, right?” “No way, man!” Very interesting! I wondered if they were balikbayan kids or a barkada in an exclusive school.

At the locker area while we were changing clothes, he glanced at me; I held my gaze. He smiled and approached me, introducing himself as Michael. Then he joined his friends as they explored the place.

About an hour later I saw him alone. We smiled at each other then I invited him to a cubicle. When I locked the door, he immediately lied down and placed his hands behind his head.

At that point several things went through my mind: [1] he’s most probably a newbie with limited experience with men; [2] he’s very straight-acting; [3] I have this golden opportunity in my hands. So with the tune of “Tonight, I gave the greatest performance of my life…!” as a soundtrack in my mind, I immediately introduced Michael to The McTongue. Yes, the tongue is one of the most overlooked yet very potent sexual organs.

He never knew what hit him. The McTongue was all over him. At first he was just gritting his teeth, sucking in air. Then he was moaning uncontrollably. Pretty soon he was going, “What are you dooooing, man?! Ooooh! Nooo, not there! OOOOOOHHH!” I had him pleading in a “Stop! Don’t stop!” desperate tone.

Okay, okay, at this point in the episode, let me just say something: I’m not saying I’m the greatest when it comes to sex. I’ve disappointed others, and I’ve certainly underperformed in bed. I’ve even experienced an inability to perform at all (ah, the ravages of age!) So I’m not Mr. Fantastic Lovah-Lovah, nooo siree. But with Michael I was fairly confident that I had a sexual newbie in my hands. Oh I’m sure he’ll meet someone in the future who’ll top what I did, but for several minutes last night, here was putty I can play with; what a challenge and a privilege to turn this dude into the joys of mano-a-mano sex! So pare, chong, hataw ang lolah n’yo, noh! The more he got turned on, the more he turned me on. The deeper his moans, the deeper I plunged in. We were feeding on each other’s energies. Performance level kung performance level! And tonight I gave the greatest performance of my life indeed.

(Well, to be really objective and fair to everyone I’ve had sex with, last night wasn’t the greatest performance of my life. It’s actually impossible to judge because it’s like comparing apples and oranges, you know?)

In the end he asked for my number. And when he met up with his friends, I overheard one of them ask him, “How was it? Me, I had a 9.5!” Michael didn’t even bother to whisper his answer, “Man, I had a 10!” Ay, grabeh na itoh!!! Ang haba ng buhok koh! (Actually ang kapal na ng buhok ko! Ipe, I need a haircut!)

Only when I got home that it occurred to me that maybe I should feel insulted. Shit, those kids were rating their partners that night! And how dare he judge me! He asked me for my number and then he reduced me to a number?!

But then I got a 10.

Suddenly I felt like Bo Derek.

Bo Derek Paulate, ngyek-ngyek-ngyek!

Monday, November 08, 2004

The Lush and the Ledge

Saturday evening found me in Bed again but this time I was with a couple of officemates, one guy and one girl. The guy decided to hang out near the DJ’s booth, so I accompanied the girl—let’s call her Mia—at the bar. We were just chilling out when this young man (he said later on he was just 18) started talking to her. After saying hi and exchanging names, Edward told Mia, “I think you’re cool to be in a place like this!” We noticed he was already quite tipsy. Edward told us he had to take a cab to Bed because he lent most of his money to his friends. Seeing that he was more interested in Mia, I went back to ogling the half-naked buff guys gyrating on the ledge.

At first Mia was doing okay by herself, but after a while Edward was becoming more insistent and more forward. He wanted to get her number, he wanted to take her shopping, and he had lots of money and can buy her anything she wants. “If you want a Jag, I can get you one!” he told her. He wasn’t just tipsy; he was freakin’ drunk. I had to step in and join the conversation.

At first I had a hard time taking Edward’s attention from Mia, but when he started looking for his “friend” (a guy he was talking to before he talked to us), I offered to help him look for his friend. “You lead, I’m so drunk,” he said. I took him up to the second floor and to the toilet, where he asked me to wait for him while he peed. I stayed outside, trying to peer through the dark punctuated by flashing lights, looking for Edward’s “friend”. No such luck. Edward came out of the toilet. “I like your beard,” he said, draping an arm on my shoulder and leaning dangerously close to my face. “I think it’s sexy.”

“I think we should look for your friend down below,” I said with a smile.

“You know I’m gay, I’m openly gay! I’m openly gay!” he repeated, his eyes barely open.

“Sure!” I replied in a gleeful tone that meant, “Whatever.”

We went downstairs, me towing him. We got back to the bar; no such luck with his “friend”. By this time I noticed Mia had already joined our officemate near the DJ’s booth. I had to lose Edward. Luckily he saw someone he recognized and started talking to him. I left him there and joined my friends.

We danced the night away. Later on, we were able to transfer places and moved near the ledge. When one of the dancers stepped off, bells rang in my head. Ledge! Ledge! Ledge! So I quickly jumped up. Wheee! I really let loose up there, even headbanging to the beat. I think I was able to stay there for almost 30 minutes before the muscle queens elbowed their way back up on the ledge. Humph, inggit lang sila dahil enjoy na enjoy ako! Anyway, I already had a great aerobics workout by then so I willingly gave way to the Muscle Marys of Bed.

I think I went just a bit too far with my headbanging. Today I can still feel a dull ache at the back of my neck.

Friday, November 05, 2004


The screen goes black. You hear the familiar raspy air-intake. Then, voices:
“Lord Vader.”
“Yes, master.”

Gasp! Gasp! And triple gasp! It’s the teaser trailer for Star Wars Episode III: Revenge Of The Sith!

The trailer begins with the late Alec Guiness as Obi Wan Kenobi narrating the rise of Lord Vader. So far you see images from the different Star Wars movies that came before. So far, so good.

But in the middle of the trailer, you see the hooded figure of Anakin Skywalker; when he turns to face the camera, you see his eyes are now similar to the late Darth Maul (Episode I). After a couple of images of a volcanic planet erupting, the screen goes blank.

When I heard the voice of Ian McDiarmid (as Emperor Palpatine), I held my breath. And when that was followed by the familiar enhanced voice of James Earl Jones, my heart stopped beating for a second.

“Rise!” Then you see Darth Vader, strapped on a hydraulic lift, rising up dramatically.


I know George Lucas isn’t a great filmmaker, and Episodes I and II were cinematic clunkers. But trailers can be edited to look more exciting and better paced than the actual films. And boy, does this trailer excite the inner Star Wars geek in me!

Log on to http://www.movie-list.com/trailers.php?id=starwars3 and see for yourself.

Oh Gee!

Two Saturdays ago in Bed a guy whom I was dancing and flirting with asked me for my digits. “I wanna invite you to a party next Saturday,” he said. Thinking that there’s nothing wrong with being Miss Friendship, I gave him my number without hesitation. I thought it’ll be like one of those grand EB things.

So when Saturday came, I received a text message: Hi guys! You’re invited to a stud party tonight… blah, blah, blah… bring your cute friends! Hmmm… okay. At that point a thought entered my mind, but I pushed it away. Nah, maybe it’s not. So I went to the party venue in Makati, but the moment I reached the hotel door and couldn’t hear any dance music thumping from within, I was almost sure my hunch was correct. When the door opened and I stepped into the dimly-lit studio-type room, my suspicions were confirmed.

I had stumbled upon my very first organized gay orgy parties!

I’ve heard about these parties before, in hushed tones whispered among gays. The party is usually held in a hotel or condominium and is strictly by invitation only. The guys who organize these parties are usually the macho-gay ones. These people will never invite a flamboyant or obviously effeminate gay person. There also seems to be a minimum requirement as to physical features (face and body), although I was wondering why I got invited in the first place; maybe the guy in Bed who invited me was too drunk at that time. It was oh so very fascinating—discrimination among the discriminated.

I didn’t really know anyone there (Mr. He Who Invited Me hadn’t shown up yet), so I just kept to myself, contented to watch the gay porn video playing. Guys were scoping each other out. When most of the invited guests had arrived, the orgy started.

First they announced: “Guys, shirts off.” Then it was: “Pants off.” Pretty soon it was all bets are off. At first I played the coy one, keeping to myself while most of the action moved to the bed. But I soon realized that in this kind of sexual smorgasbord, one should help oneself to the buffet otherwise there won’t be any left. So I dove right in.

Everyone cooperated, keeping their voices down so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. It was also more arousing to hear those hushed tones—something about doing the forbidden. I also quickly figured out certain “orgy conventions”: [1] no one can force you to do anything you don’t want, and vice versa; [2] be polite when refusing someone; [3] the hotter the guy, the more crowded his space is. The hottest guy in the room was this mestizo-looking hunk. Tall and well-built, he’s a muscular gym bunny who looked like he should be having a lite beer at Havana in Greenbelt 3. Instead he was being serviced by four guys—one had him at a lip-lock, two were tweaking his nipples with their mouths, and one went down on him. I and the others could only watch. I mean, where else can one insert himself in, right?

This went on for about an hour; by that time, most had already mixed-and-matched with one another. I was feeling out of it; maybe had I been more familiar to all of them I’d be more comfortable. Even when He Who Invited Me arrived, he was too busy mixing with the others to mind me. I was thinking of leaving when I saw Mr. Mestizo get it on with this Chinese-looking guy, fairly well-built, a little shorter than the former. I was looking for my shoes when I heard Mestizo Guy say, in a breathless, moaning voice, “Dude, pare… sure you can handle it?” Dude? Pare?! Handle what? I went over to the bed where they were. Mestizo Guy had his legs up in the air, while Chinese Guy was poised to, uhm, analyze him. Ooh! Mestizo Guy’s a bottom! Apparently Chinese Guy can “handle” it, and pretty soon he was “manhandling” Mestizo Guy. Meanwhile, in the bathroom there was a “shower scene” on-going too.

Whew! Afterwards I bade a quick goodbye to one of the hosts and left the place weak-kneed.

Thursday, November 04, 2004

I Believe In Kylie

This morning I caught Kylie Minogue’s latest, I Believe In You, on the radio. By the first verse, I was already going, “I like it! I like it! I like it!” And when I heard Kylie sing the chorus, “Ohhh, aaahhh-aaahhh-I believe in yoooooou…!” in her breathless falsetto, I was going, “I’m buying it! I’m buying it! I’m buying it!”

It’s a continuation of Kylie’s retro-disco/dance sound which she tapped into successfully with Can’t Get You Out Of My Head. If that one is reminiscent of the 80s, this new song channels the 70s this time, recalling the Donna Summer-Giorgio Moroder era. It’s destined to be a dance hit in gay discos, because of its oh-so-catchy and repetitive chorus plus an addictive sing-along coda: “I believe in you, I believe in! I believe in you, I believe in….”

Upon reaching the office I went straight to her website and watched the music video on-line. Like most of her recent videos, this one has her singing and dancing provocatively to the camera while wearing several skimpy outfits. True to form, she made sure her clothes and choreography would highlight her, uhmmm, assets. She knows that she’s the main visual attraction in her videos, so the camera never strays from her for long.

Kylie is one artist that’s ogled at by both straight and gay guys. They like watching her for different reasons. Straights want to get in her pants; gays want to be in her shoes. Most of the straight guys I know who flip over her just want to watch her in her music videos; she could be singing “Do-Re-Mi” for all they care.

I just can’t get it out of my head; now I can’t wait for the remix to be played in Bed!


Sorry Riel, I forgot to post this yesterday.

Cellar Mansions in Tagaytay City; for inquiries and reservations, please call tel. no. 413-3537 or (0919)753-1779 and look for Roselyn.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

Stereo Types

Of the many stereotype traits attributed to gays, one of the most familiar is the one regarding their choice of music. The reason why certain artists are labeled “gay icons” is because they are beloved by most gays everywhere. Music tastes change with time; so do the musical “gay icons.” The gays before swooned over Judy Garland, Liza Minnelli and Dusty Springfield; then it was Cher and Barbra Streisand; now it’s Madonna, Britney Spears, and Kyle Minogue.

Of course, it doesn’t automatically mean that you are gay if you like any or all of the artists mentioned above. Vice versa, I’m sure there are gays who do not believe in Cher, who can get Kyle out of their heads, and who’d find Britney’s music toxic.

Stereotypes can work as a kind of short-hand, a hasty generalization that lends to easy classification, given people’s penchant for pigeon-holing. That’s why when used properly and deliberately, it can work in sitcoms, TV commercials, movies and soap operas. On the flip side, stereotyping can propagate a simplistic view of things and can lead to bigotry, homophobia and bad casting.

So what can one do if he’s straight but grooves to “Into The Groove” and is a slave for “I’m a Slave 4 U”? Or if he’s gay but would rather listen to Led Zeppelin, head-bang to Korn and scream-along to Slapshock?

But really, the more important question is this: So what? Kung type mo yung music eh di type mo, di ba?

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Tagaytay Images

Why was I not in Bed Saturday evening? I wanted to stay long in Malate, but I had to go home early because the whole family was going up to Tagaytay the next day. Departure was at 6am, so I needed my beauty sleep. Sunday morning found the whole McVie family excited; my mom wanted us to stay overnight there! Our plan was to attend Mass the moment we arrive there then look for a place. Since I wasn’t in a mass-mood, I skipped service and went around looking for a place. I stopped by five possible venues before heading back just in time as the mass ended.

We had lunch at Josephine’s because my mom wanted sinigang. We enjoyed the magnificent view and had fun playing around for the camera. Below are some of my favorite pictures I took. The rest will be in The McView Point.

Taal volcano as seen from Josephine’s view deck

My older brother with his children in a very old optical “trick”

We stayed at this house in Cellar Mansions—of the houses available for rent, this was the coziest. The moment we stepped in, the others immediately liked the vibes of the place. True enough, no weird occurrence happened during our stay.

My niece wanted to ride a horse, so we stopped by Picnic Grove, where I took these shots. I loved the silhouettes against the dusk sky. Magic hour indeed!

Suzuki can get me to do their Vitara brochures, hahaha! Ang guwapo ni Orlando, if I may say so.

Around the house, there were lots of trees with huge spiders. My nephew and niece were both fascinated by the spiders, and spent the morning looking for them among the trees.

My flower series. There were so many different flowers growing around the house, and they’re the most cooperative of subjects.

Dinner at Carlo’s Pizza; when you have kids you give in to their whining. One can go restaurant-hopping; beside it is Dencio’s (not in photo), Starbucks, Pancake House and Hen-Lin’s. I wanted to go to Antonio’s Breakfast (Lunch and Dinner Too), but I was out-voted.

Early Monday morning, just as I was about to go up to the second floor, I glanced up. I then grabbed my camera and took a picture of the window.

For more pictures, click on The McView Point link at right.

On The Radio

This morning while driving to work, I heard the following radio commercial on NU107.

Imagine a girl speaking out loud. She goes: “Ooh, Dave’s (basta some jock-sounding name) locker! I wonder what’s inside” SFX of a steel locker being opened. “What? Madonna’s Immaculate Collection? American Life by Madonna? Barbra Streisand?!”

Then the male voice-over announcer comes in: “You can tell a lot about someone by their music collection. Tower Records. Blah-blah-blah product sell and so forth.”

Then it goes back to the female VO, going to fade-out: “Cher?!”

When I heard it, natawa na lang ako. Mwhahahaha!