The Comedy of Errors

There are some people who are just naturally funny, they don't even have to try. Every single thing that comes out of their mouths is effing hilarious. And even if they're not saying something funny, how they say things is enough to drive you hysterical with laughter.

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Unfortunately, Vic Sotto is not one of them. The saddest part is, in all his years in show business, none of his friends and collegues were able to point this out to him. All throughout his career, he delivered the same shtick that passes for comedy in his vocabulary. He has never even tried to reinvent himself or tried his hand on another genre. Maybe, if he'd tried drama, I'd see some redeeming qualities. Surely, his face is more suited for drama. Maybe that's one of his problems: he doesn't look funny. He always looked as if somebody died on him. He can't sing, he can't dance and he can't make anyone laugh to save his life. And coming from someone who laughs at the corniest jokes, that's saying something. Just to prove to you how easy it is to make me laugh, I even find John Lloyd Cruz's commercials funny. And I am not a John Lloyd fan.

I am pretty sure there are other people out there who had the temerity to call themselves comedians unjustly. I can only name Vic for now because he keeps on popping up on these TV commercials, which by all indication could be done with the same conviction by Vic Sotto circa 1980's. The only difference is that now he is much older, ergo less appealing, less forgivable and even less convincing. I'm sure it is not all Vic Sotto's fault. But his is the only visible face to place the blame on.

So why are companies still paying Vic Sotto big bucks to star in their films and endorse their products? I have no idea. Charisma? But I don't see it. Vic Sotto is probably laughing at us from the comforts of his million-peso mansion. Suckers!

P.S. I swear, this Julienne girl was in every single production number of Party Pilipinas last Sunday. What? They've ran out of reliable talents?

P.S.S. It must be difficult to perform on TV where people with nothing better to do like me can scrutinize the performer. There was this girl who was playing lead vocals for a local band, who's microphone went from one hand to another every after 3 seconds. How annoying.

P.S.S.S. I feel bad for Sam Pinto who's talent is limited to looking pretty. She was in one number where all she had to do was strut around the stage, walk over to the guy who was singing and touch him. Repeat 20 times to cover all the other male singers in that particular number. Apparently being the number 1 sexiest in 2011 will not save you from having to look ridiculous on national TV.

P.S.S.S.S. I have ran out of reading materials and after the mugging incident, I am left broke from now until the foreseeable future. So I'm watching more TV than I should. Please forgive me.

The Night of the Living Dead

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If there was one incident that would prompt me to blog again, it was what happened to me a week ago.

I got mugged.

I was on the ground. He had a gun. The worst part is I'm 5 months pregnant.

But apparently that doesn't matter because it happened. It's not the kind of thing that you imagined would happen to you. I mean, I've always been vigilant. There were times when I thought about it happening to me and the scenario always ended with me getting killed because my reflex would be to fight back. Of course, when I really think about it, it doesn't make sense to risk my life to protect trivial belongings. They can always be replaced anyway.

But during the moment of truth, things don't really go the way you imagined they would when you were still making them up on your mind. I was not prepared in the least. I was crossing the street. The light turned green. Suddenly, 2 guys in a motorcycle stopped by me and one of them got off. I did try to run even when he already got to me but he was too strong and too fast. He ran after me, caught my bag and yanked really hard. That's how I ended up laying on the ground. Then I saw the gun. Everything was a blur after that. He managed to pull my bag and they drove away. I got up. Witnesses and concerned citizens flocked around me as if I were a freak show, which is not to say that I did not appreciate their concern, because I did. There was one guy who was a few feet away from me when it happened but he ran away when he saw the gun. He was profusely sorry. He even went as far as giving me P20 so that I could get home because I have not got a cent in me. I was his charity case. If I weren't so worried about my baby I would have laughed so loud, they'd think I hit my head on the pavement and gone crazy. I called my office mate from the convenient store across the street so that I will have someone who will go with me to the police station to file a report. I could not describe any of the two men to save my life. But I just felt like I needed to do something. I did not delude myself into thinking that I'd get any of my stuff back; my pens, my IDs, my notebooks, even my journal wherein I had documented my now non-existent sex life. But it will not do me any good to dwell on what I have lost.

It was a long night. I went to work the next morning as if nothing happened except that I didn't have any make up on because  my vanity kit was in that bag. The office mates who went with me to the police station were not yet around so I was the one who had to break the news to those of them who were present. They could not believe it. Apparently, a pregnant woman being mugged is unheard of, shocking and offensive to the sensibilities of the righteous. I had to show them the humongous bruise on my knee to convince them that I was not kidding, as if I would ever joke about a thing like that. I do have a track record of shocking the bejesus out of friends and office mates. Like the time I told them that I was pregnant. I had to pull out my ultrasound report just so that they would believe me, and even then they were still incredulous.

I found it hard to sleep the following nights. I kept thinking that I have died that night and I was just imagining that I was still alive and people were still talking to me. When I'm on my bed at night, I keep reliving the events. Only this time I'm more of like an omniscient spectator. Like I'm standing a few feet from myself and I can see everything that is happening but they can't see me. I can't even remember how I felt. Everyone I know had his piece to say about the incident. Some were angry, some were scared, some were concerned and frothing at the mouth. They told me that I should not be alone at night again, that I should not ride a jeepney at night, that I should not have a substantial amount with me on my bag, that I should transfer to a safer neighborhood. And I could not agree more. But then again, if I learned anything from watching too many episodes of Criminal Minds, it's the fact that there is no safe place. You can be attacked in your own house. And you are always alone, even if you are in a crowd. But I cannot let that fear stop me from living my life. If I did then I would have completely lost. Not only had they stolen my stuff, but, by being afraid, they would have taken my freedom as well. And that is something that I cannot allow. To fear is to suffer. To fear is to surrender.

I got attacked and I lived to tell the tale. My unborn kid and I are survivors and all we got was a five-second local news TV coverage as souvenir. The cosmos has a twisted sense of humor. But "what does not kill me will make  me stronger."

Update

Something big is brewing...

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It Runs In Our Veins Part II

Statue of Selene at the Capitoline Museums (photo credit)

Selene is the Greek goddess of the moon. It is said that she was a radiant goddess and she wore a golden crown. She rode a horse-drawn silver chariot. She wore a robe and a half-moon over her head. She was famous for her many love affairs but the most popular was her love story with the shepherd, Endymion. The story tells that the goddess fell in love with the mortal, but for fear of his mortality, she asked Zeus to grant him eternal life that they may be together forever. Now Zeus, the king of all Greek gods, was a genius. He could not make Endymion immortal but he can make him sleep for all eternity thereby preserving his youth and life. And since Selene did not want the love of her life to grow old and die, she agreed to his arrangement even if in exchange she will hear him snore for all eternity. Then she went on to have 50 daughters with him. How she managed that with a sleeping guy, I haven't the faintest idea. Maybe the Greek deities practiced in vitro fertilization. Who knows? Truth be told I think Zeus gave her very good deal. She could have her way with him and he would not be able to object. She could go through life the way she wanted to and he would not be able to say a word. She could make all the horrible decisions and he would not be able to question her. How ideal is that? A lover who played dead. Did I mention that Zeus is a genius?

The Goddess Loves CDO

Well, that goes without saying. I love Cebu like hell but CDO is where family and friends are. CDO is home and there is no place like it.

The two lady-loves of my life.

After free-lunch drinks.

Because we had to kill time and none of us thought of bringing a camera.

Good friends are so hard to find.

High-school, 10 years and 10 lbs later.

Girls just wanna have fun.

My Perk-Me-Up List

White sand beaches (photo credit)

A good book (photo credit)

Red pedicure (photo credit)

Miniskirts and newly-shaved legs (photo credit)

Salon hair days (photo credit)

Chit chat over cups of coffee (photo credit)

A hearty meal (photo credit)

Pizza, soda and DVD nights (photo credit)

Summer tunes (photo credit)

Cagayan de Oro because it's where home, family and friends are. (photo credit)

My Weekend in Pictures

Last weekend, I was in Bantayan Island, a paradise.

Notebook, pen, iPod, and sunblock. The ingredients to a perfect beach weekend.

Bonfire of the Vanities

Diet be gone! (photo credit: Gil Antecristo)

Power Rangers circa 2011 (photo credit: Gil Antecristo)

Of white sand and coconut trees (photo credit: Gil Antecristo)

Beach babes. (photo credit: Gil Antecristo)

The dusk and the goddess (photo credits: Dim Tesiorna)

More photos soon. Paging Dim Tesiorna. :)

If I Were A TV Character...

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...I'd be Mary Alice Young from Desperate Housewives.

She's dead. She's omniscient. She's all knowing. She can laugh at all her friends' crazy exploits. She can be sad about their stupid, pathetic lives. And she can be happy that she is dead. At least, she's not one of them anymore.

This may sound morbid, but I wanna be dead and be aware of what everyone is doing. To know people's every little secret. To see how they look perched on the john. To see what they do when they thought no one was watching. But then what? The problem is you cannot have everything. You can be dead and know everything, but then you couldn't do anything about what you know. Or you could be alive and can do something about what you know, but you can never know everything. And really, if I'm dead, would I still care? Uhmmm, probably not. I'm self-centered in life and probably in death as well.

Sometimes people are so engrossed about their own lives, so absorbed in their own worries and so busy whining about their problems that they don't see that other people have it worse. For some people there is no bigger picture than the here and the now. For  most people it is every man for himself. If you won't save yourself, no one will.

To be human is to be self-promoting.

You vs. Zombies

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To be human is to struggle. Life is full of zombies trying to eat your brains.

Ladies who leave their filth in the bathroom when there is clearly a trashcan a couple of feet away.
Me: @#$%

The person who plays the entire repertoire of The Steps at full blast.
Me: Can you please turn it down a little?
Her: Go to hell.
Me: I'm already there, sweetheart. And I don't know what I could have done in this life to deserve such punishment.

The pervert sitting beside me in a packed jeepney, trying to cope a feel of my backside.
If I had daggers in my eyes, I would have stared his peter to amputation.

The devil behind wheels who almost run me over while crossing the pedestrian lane.
Me: @#$%

The client who doesn't know what's good for her.
I'm not a fan of wasting my time on the phone trying to explain my point. With stupid people, there is no winning an argument.

The pig who makes sick, sexist jokes.
Me: You are obviously not getting laid or you would have kept your mouth shut.

Pompous politicians.
Me: Where's an assassin when you need one?

The person who cuts in front of me on the queue.
Me: Ahem, excuse me.
Person who cuts in oblivious to my hair standing at the ends.
Person behind me: Just excuse him, miss. He's old. Let him be.
Me: Look, man, I'm not a rude person. If he had asked me nicely if he could cut in front of me, I would have willingly oblige. But an old person without manners. Is that supposed to be comforting?
(But like I said, there is no winning an argument with a stupid person.)

The street kid who threatens passers by if they don't give money.
Kid (Holds on to my shirt and refuses to let go): Give me five pesos.
Me: Let go of my shirt.
Kid: Not unless you give me five pesos.
Me (steam coming out of my ears): Do you think I'm scared of you. Do you want me to beat the living crap out of your puny form?
Kid: Never mind. (Lets go and scrams.)

Obnoxious sales ladies.
Me (Pointing at the dress displayed way above my reach): Can you please get that for me? I want to try it on.
Lady (Folds her arms across her chest and looks at me): That's too big for you.
Me (Walks away. I'm sorry. I do not want to be yelling at people to do their jobs.)

Stupid people in general.
Me: Oh shit, I'm outnumbered.

The world is full of zombies eating at the pea-shooters in your yard. Load your guns and aim for the head.

The Godfather Trilogy

I got my father a gift last Christmas. It was a complete DVD set of The Godfather Trilogy. For those who are not familiar, this is a movie about a family of mobsters. Knowing my father, he always likes movies with guns in them. Praises have been said about these films. I have read a Puzo book myself and it is not bad at all. But when I saw the movies, I didn't care that they were hailed as the best films ever made. I didn't care that these movies won a bunch of awards. All I saw were these:

Al Pacino as Michael Corleone (photo credit)

Robert De Niro as Vito Corleone (I could not find a better picture. You will have to see the movie.) photo credit

Andy Garcia as Vincent Marcini (He's not actually of Italian descent but who cares.) photo credit

I know I need not say more but I'm going to say it anyway. Al Pacino was hot. Robert De Niro was so freakin' hot. Andy Garcia was so effin' oh-my-god-I'm-hyperventilating hot. Please douse me with cold water. Thank you.

Admittedly, these guys are now just a mere shadow of the enigma that was their former selves. But what can you do? People grow old. Regardless... I have not heard a word that they said. All I saw was that they killed a lot of goons. I don't care. They could have just stood around staring at the camera. I'd still give them all an Oscar.

December Book: The Voyage of the Beagle by Charles Darwin

Sorry for the picture quality

The HMS Beagle set sail from Davenport, England on Dec. 27, 1831. Charles Darwin was on board the Beagle when it circumnavigated the world. This voyage lasted for 5 years. During this trip, Darwin wrote the journals which made him famous. Of course, around this time, he was still in the early stages of his theory of evolution, the theory which made him even more famous, though not in a positive way.

The fact that I have read this book from cover to cover is a cause for wonder. It is no light reading, to be honest. It took me forever to finish it. It is... boring. And that is putting it lightly. If you are a naturalist, which I highly doubt, maybe you'll find it interesting. The problem is I'm not. And what may otherwise be a ground-breaking observation was translated into profuse bleeding at the pores to a layman like myself.

Consider this line: "I am inclined to suspect that thunderstorms are very common in the mouth of great rivers. Is it not possible that the mixture of large bodies of fresh and salt water may disturb the electrical equilibrium?"

The what?

But just because it is not something that I understand completely or find interesting doesn't make it less great. Not withstanding the fact that Darwin bored me into a deep slumber, I have the utmost respect for the guy. That focus. That concentration. That skill for analysis. It could not have been easy to determine that "female ostrich lays several eggs in the nest of several other females and the male ostrich undertakes all the cares of incubation". Could he had determine this if he just sat in the shade and observed a bunch of ostrich for an hour? Highly unlikely. It is possible that he spent days studying their habits while the possibility of being butchered to death by violent Indians was very real. Unfortunately, it may break Darwin's heart that none of these mean anything to me. What the hell do I care about ostriches? I don't even eat them.

So here is what I think about the Voyage. It is not for pleasure reading. The only reason I picked it up was because I promised to include more serious reading materials to my pile. I should have picked something less scientific. I do not recommend it as a topic for casual conversations with friends and significant others. I do not recommended it as a topic for conversations period. Unless you hate the person you are talking to and you want to kill them with boredom. If you are trying to impress someone, do not use your knowledge of this book. The person you are trying to impress will think that you are a pompous ass of a geek. Of course, there are attempts at poetry: "A most paradoxical mixture of sound and silence pervades the shady part of the woods". And even attempts at, gasp, humor: "A profusion of food showed itself at dinner, where, if the tables did not groan, the guests surely did for everyone is expected to eat of every dish." But let me state this for the record: humor is not synonymous to Darwin.

In closing, let me leave you with another of Darwin's attempts to be funny: "The carancha  bird destroys young lambs by tearing the umbilical cord and it pursues the gallinazo until that bird is compelled to vomit up the carrion it may have recently gorged. All these facts show that it is a bird of very versatile habits and considerable ingenuity." Versatile? Ingenious? Would you have said that of a human who does the same things to his fellow beings? What a joke.

Kris Kringle

Stuff I got for Christmas. If it weren't for the fact that Kris Kringle is more or less "compulsory" in the office. I wouldn't have gotten anything. It's a little sad, actually. But now I'm over it.

Thanks to my Secret Santa. Whoever you were.

Week 1: Something curly.

Week 2: Something sticky.

Week 3: Something hairy.

Week 4: Something "R".