Prank callers or prank hotlines?

I WRINKLED MY NOSE in disgust the moment I inhaled the wisp of air polluted by gas leaking from a tank. The bottom part of which had a crack. Mild friction caused some sparking around that part. That could spread to a wildfire. The slightest movement could cause the tank to explode, explained my brother-in-law. Like the clanking of two Coke glass bottles.

The sun and the clouds

THE SUN PEEKS THROUGH the sky curtain of gray fluffy cotton as the clouds persist to repress it. Impossible. It’s a view of a struggle I see each morning. In my seat. Through the window. At my new office. And today is my second Monday here.

They say I suffered from a so-called separation anxiety during my first week of being disconnected from my previous company. Specifically on my first two days. On my second day, I almost got myself into trouble, thanks to my impulsive stupidity or stupid impulsiveness. Whichever is right and more appropriate. Feeling empty and guilty of some nature, as though I have left a mission, an unfulfilled purpose. And an agreement left unspoken. Maybe I should earnestly thank God for the odds have always been in my favor. I was saved from the penalty that my think-about-others-before-yourself-first attitude could have caused me. I’m okay now. I’m right where I want to be. At least that’s what I feel. On my second week. And in the years to come. I’m right where I want to be.

World War C

Girbaud, my half-Persian half-something kitten-turned-cat.

I FREED GIRBAUD OUT of his cage today. He’s my sweet-looking little cat who used to be a kitten until this June, his first adoption month anniversary, which for me is his birth month. I have always looked forward to freeing him because he’s a cat. He should be free to stroll and sprint and play. And mate. To my delight, the moment I freed him, he was so calm and quiet. Simply lurching around in our backyard, sometimes moving to our terrace, taking naps, and that was it. Gone are the days when he would dash from one place to another, which made me anxious that he’d try to escape and find his mother cat and his siblings and then, instead, end up finding another home.

Moments later he crept across the lawn, chasing after a white cat. I am certain that it was not about mating because that white cat, as far as I know, is male. And Girbaud, I believe, is not gay. There’s no homosexuality in the cat kingdom, I suppose, unless I am mistaken. Then they pounced, stumbled, scared themselves, and flashed lightning-quick into another yard. In the neighborhood―which happened to be a den of dogs.

You’re under arrest for...

I’d prefer paragraphs and sentences over lines and verses and stanzas…

Nonetheless, this is my first silly poem about—love? Or obsession? I call it,

“Fourteenth of February.”

Starry eyed and awed as you turned to me.

Like an angel who descended from the heavens.

Rigodon by Erik Matti: What movie-goers swallow with their popcorn

After a long time, a sexy film has finally come out of the mainstream
again: Rigodon by Erik Matti. And this is a shot taken from the movie.
(Image credit: orangemagazinetv.com)

 

TITS AND BOMBS: THAT’S WHAT you swallow with your popcorn while watching Rigodon by Erik Matti. An unclothed nubile lady bouncing on top of a naked guy—whose private parts were more concealed that that of his partner—pounding faster and faster, moaning louder and louder. Her nipples all exposed even when unneeded, resulting in a temporary erection of the straight male audience. An act of a willing soul of femininity being used as an instrument of sexist iconography, bland and artless, just for the sake of getting topless in front of the camera. Until just when you think they were about to come into an erotic burst, the director might have said “Cut!”And then entered another scene.

In defense of Paula Jamie Salvosa

In the clip, a young lady constantly hollered at a female security guard at the LRT station (Metro Manila, Philippines) the words “I’m a liar,” her squeaking tone interchanging between a question and a statement.

The young lady explained that the guard’s rude behavior had enraged her. “I’m just returning the favor,” she retorted.
Source

LIKE A TIGER SHE ACTED. That might even be an understatement. I’m talking about Paula Jamie Salvosa—the young Filipina who made it to Internet stardom through a minute-long “AMALAYER” video clip a very responsible online citizen posted few days ago.

Hysteria on the first night of August

This is a photo of Montojo Street taken with a camera phone at 11:11 p.m.
of August 1, 2012. More than an hour ago, something happened.

 

Montojo Street, Makati City—Few minutes before 10 p.m.

A RANTING FEMALE VOICE was talking in high pitch, making each syllable sound like a squeak. “Walang hiya ka! May asawa na yung tao kinakabitan mu pa! Ako ang asawa niya! Walang hiya ka! Pamilya ko damay dito at mga anak namin.... Gusto lang kita makita, at ngayong nakita na kita, okay lang pala! Di pala ko dapat ma-insecure sa’yo! Baboy ka pala!”

 

It was a wife-versus-mistress quarrel. The wife called her husband’s other woman a vamp, fat and ugly, undeserving of attention and unworthy of admiration, and compared her to a pig.

Spins in July

THIS JULY, MY SUPERIORS informed me that I have to transition from my current technical-writing-slash-subtle-marketing project for a U.S. client to a short-term proofreading-and-XML-tagging project for a Swiss client. I concurred.

We started with a three-hour training session on a late-night schedule. The following day the client sent an e-mail that required administrative stuff, and I responded promptly to certain requests—of course addressing my superiors, not the client, to avoid bypassing. A couple of days later, I was summoned for an ad hoc meeting in our conference room. When I arrived at the meeting room, I found two fellow technical writers, who would be working on the same short-term project too, talking with our U.S.-based project manager on the phone. The project manager was addressing one of them, offering him a position to become the head of our team. I heard a familiar name too. Thinking about you and your experience though you’re not yet a senior in this company but your experience… but Alchris too came stepping in to these tasks and seems comfortable with it… deciding who between the two—some of the unclear conversations I’d picked up when I came in to the room.

Train like a Hunger Games “tribute” at Gandiva Café

A Katniss Everdeen wannabe?

(Image credit: http://images5.fanpop.com)

TRAIN LIKE A TRIBUTE for Hunger Games, or simply enhance your dexterity, at Gandiva Café. The venue—located at 7/F One Corporate Center Bldg., Julia Vargas St., cor. Meralco Ave., Ortigas Center, Pasig City—offers both relaxation and action through its:

• Dining area (café) — provides a variety of food menu, from thin crust pizzas to pasta, as well as choices of drinks, ranging from lemon grass tea to macchiato
• Archery range — provides bow and arrow and other necessary archery equipment, such as arm guard and sight, for a minimum payment

Butong pakwan (watermelon seeds)

He wears thick gold bracelets and rings festooned with diamonds; he speaks with his big raging voice as though always inviting of a debate; he stands with the military erectness of his body like nothing can make him fall …

… My ever boastful, powerful, and proud father had a sudden death, the cause of which is heat stroke, they say.

THE BOWL WAS EMPTY. I’ve filled it for about the second or third time with butong pakwan (those salted, dried watermelon seeds people pull out from their brittle, roasted rind). Though never addicted to butong pakwan since childhood, I’ve tried them back then, doing the same thing: placing them on a plate, so my sister could actually eliminate their roasted rind using her bare hands for me. This time, however, it felt different. Pouring butong pakwan into the bowl, I felt my heart throbbing—because the serving was for my father’s funeral.

Unexpectedly all of a sudden

To redundantly say that his death is unexpectedly all of a sudden could be an understatement. My father, that debonair (turning) 65-year-old man, is even stronger than I am.

The sunlight has entered my room through the window. From there, I gathered it was time to get up for work. In my peripheral view, I saw my phone was vibrating. The light signal at the bottom part of it was already blinking. I thought it was my daily alarm clock, which wakes me up at around 7 a.m. I picked up my phone to dismiss the alarm, but then I saw it was our home landline in City of San Fernando (Pampanga).

This is weird, I thought. It isn’t yet Friday.

Top 10 skills I have acquired and done best in my 24 years of existence

I turned 24 last April 1st and this is my birthday entry for my 24 years of existence …

… and still counting!

BEFORE TURNING 24, I have joined various organizations and tried numerous activities, including Taekwondo, publication writing, and weightlifting, and even theater acting and singing. In all these, though, I suppose I’ve never been the “best”—a word that I associate with being outstanding in every aspect. Hence, I’ve enumerated the skills I’ve done preeminently, those that I may have learned to master, or at least to get the hang of, from all the things I tried and organizations I joined… or even from experiences, painful and blissful, I encountered.