Haitus

Hey everyone!

As you might have noticed, it's been months already that I haven't posted anything here. Four months to be exact. I've been very busy with everything, it's been a rollercoaster ride for me this past months. I soared high, then hit rock bottom. And it sucks bigtime.

Thanks to everyone who's been visiting this blog regularly. You know who you are and I know who you are, I have Sitemeter! Haha. I miss visiting your blogs. And I also miss the 'epiphanic moments' I get when we exchange lines.

Of course, I've been writing still, even when I was on break from everything. I took a 2-week off, and well let's just I soul-searched again. I'm feeling better now, and some of my compositions are more, how should I say this, uplifting compared to the ones back then.

I'll just be having my regular fix, and after that I'll be back, perhaps after about a week or so. Ooh, there's a lot of things we need to talk about, and I cant wait for your responses.

Till then. Have a nice life everyone.

Lyle.

P.S. To those whose responses I have deleted, I'm sorry. My account was acting up, and all of the replies just went kaput. Tsk. Tsk. If I can just bring them back. Oh yeah, and for some weird reason, the "reply" option has been unabled. Hmm. I smell sabotage. Oh well, back to work. I'll catch up with y'all when I get back. Cheerio!

Starvation & Lavatory Rendezvous, 2

According to some, starvation is the route to eternal bliss (read: death). However, my friends who preach the Gospel of Sivo (Self-Induced Vomiting) counter by saying that TSR (not Technical Service Rep, but Toilet Sink Rendezvous) is the route to aesthetic bliss. I’m somewhat neutral on the subject of starvation. I’m not really against starvation-as-weight-loss-regimen per se, but taking it to the extreme can be fatal.

I am not one to say that starvation is bad since I, myself, am not living a healthy lifestyle; I’ve been unconsciously and inadvertently starving myself. If you choose to deprive yourself of food to maintain or hit a certain target weight, and when you finally reach it, stop there. Do not desire for more pounds to be shed, because ultimately that will backfire. Complications may arise later on, and may affect you psychologically.

So be wary. Depriving your body all the nutrients needed would guarantee you a slot in your local necropolis. There are still other ways to chuck off that flab, but I’m not going to talk about it, there’s just too much of them.

One more thing though: Remember to cut back on the carbs, protein-loading, and lots of water. (Oh, and exercise.) Since loss of essential nutrients and fluids dry up the gray matter and would definitely escort you to something worse than death: idiocy.

I’m not pretending to be a health guru here because I’m far from being one. I just want you people to be extra cautious with your chosen weight loss regimen. Like I always say, “Whatever suits you.” Just be responsible enough to take care of that bod.

Anyway, it’s gonna be Hello Sisig for me later! I’m going to Dencio’s! Yay! Okay, I’m going to eat now.

Starvation & Lavatory Rendezvous, 1

Save for a couple of cheeseburgers, copious amounts of black coffee and coke floats, and five KFC brownies (Man, they’re so heavenly I could eat 5 of ‘em in one sitting!), I have not eaten real food for like days (more or less 96 hours)! In my current weight, I cannot afford to loose any more pounds. Otherwise, the wind could just easily lift me up and blow me all the way to Annapurna.

I’m quite alarmed, honestly. Given the fact that I have an über-active lifestyle and my metabolism can be likened to a million-dash marathon sprinter, I don’t have problems loosing weight. At a snap of the finger *finger-snap* just like that.

My friends are terribly distressed also. Well just half of ‘em, as the other half’s envious. No, make that offensively envious. In a matter of weeks, my weight had dropped by an 8-pound difference. They, of the Anorexia-Bulimia school, were so green with envy, since I have their ideal weight. Without even breaking a sweat!

Meanwhile the other half of my friends threatened to force-feed me if I couldn’t gain it back or if my weight would go down pa. They’re suspecting depression – AND substance abuse! Geez people, I’m not depressed (okay, just mildly depressed), and I certainly am not snorting stuff nor popping pills. That is so like two years ago! Ha-ha.

The reason behind my tremendous weight loss is plain and simple: time. I don’t have time to eat! And oftentimes when the opportunity presents itself, my taste buds would then shut down, leading to loss of appetite. I don’t know why this is, but yeah, it happens to me all the time.

Maybe my friends’ depression speculation was anchored on the fact that one of the symptoms of depression is appetite loss. I don’t want to repeat it, but I’ll repeat it anyway: I’m not depressed. More appropriately though, I’m no longer depressed; recovering at least.

(to be concluded…)

Espresso Dreams: Back in the Dooms

In daydreams I go back to Negros Oriental – the hum of the waters in Valencia, the beaches of Siaton and Guihulngan, the vast foliage expanse of Bais and Tanjay, the rustic charm of Dumaguete City, the spectacular marine life of the famed Apo Island … and a whole lot more.

But what identifies a mere tourist from a true habitué is the je ne sais quoi of Doomsville, term of endearment for those who call Dumaguete City home, or at the very least, have an intense love affair with the city.

Doomsville is a pleasant brew of the old and the new, an intermingling of the quaint and the fashionable, a mélange of the naive and the urbane and once you enter its realm, you’ll forever be in its thrall. Another thing that made people silly about Dumaguete is the whole café culture.

The café landscape of Dumaguete runs along an age barrier. The high-end coffee shops, like Coco Amigos, Mamia’s and Don Atilano, have the older generation as clientele. Here, you can observe glamorous albeit near-senescent women sitting around chatting about their apo’s, their haciendas and generally, times past; and it caters to expats too.

The other café scene is for the younger set, and can be categorized into three. First you have coffee shops for the non-smoking and the less adventurous kind. Lee Cimballi, Dunkin’ Donuts and Cafe Antonio to name a few. Here you can see students studying hastily for their next-hour-exams, or just folks who fancy ‘people-sighting’.

Second is the daytime café, where college studes and young professionals trot busily in and out, drowning their somnolent carcasses with caffeine. They also use this chance to temporarily get their minds off academic stuff and deadlines, to sip barako’s, eat quesadillas, play cards, sit together to chat, or simply, just to chill out. (Sted’s and Dumaguete Travel among others)

The ritual continues throughout the day, and soon, even the observer, becomes an integral part of daily routine. And with the setting of the sun, the scene changes into the night café culture of bars and rum-mills, giving a boost to sundown fun in the city. By this time, coffee is usually accentuated by a dose of alcohol, and more often than not, with a pack of smokes. No, more packs of smokes. Thus begins a relaxing and extended night with friends.

My history as a coffee monster stems from this small, unpretentious coffee shop along Silliman Ave called Cafe Memento. And true to its name, wherever one goes, one carries with him the memories and the home-ness of Doomsville.

Beach Boy Strikes Again, 2

Bubba and I used to talk a lot, we share the same wavelengths. Our talks usually meander from serious, earth-shaking, peace-shattering topics, to more personal stuff, to trivial fluff. He never gets tired. If Oprah’s the queen of talk, Bubba’s the Energizer bunny of blab. (And flab? Kidding!)

Bubba (and this not-so-humble author) was a dreamer. He used to harbor the notion that ‘life is too short and the world is too small to be taken seriously.’ But when he was washed ashore in the island called ‘reality’ did he start to appreciate the value of ‘responsibility’. He learned to grasp the essence of swimming against the current (in the Doom’s perspective).

He may be arrogant at times but no one can accuse him of being misanthropic. He loves people. He is open to the idea of making friends more than he’s open to fights. In spite of his fiery words and intimidating façade, he wants people to feel good around him and makes an environment of at-home-ness. Wait, did I mention that his an antithesis of his own? I mean just that.

People may find it hard to place a finger on where to classify Bubba. He’s outgoing, sometimes solitary; gentle yet harsh; a guardian angel at the same time a prodding devil. That’s Bubba, extreme and unpredictable. And I daresay that’s the beauty of him. You’re on your way to becoming saint Ba. Not!

Author’s note: I miss you Ba. Let’s storm the Dooms together okay. Let’s relive the Memento-Hayahay days with the original Memento 5: you, me, Kim, Trina and Margo. Let’s go back to the Insular Hotel with Mommy Lech and fill the room with the putridity of bagoong and yosi smoke. Let’s trip on the pathetic Doomsvillagers with George, John (when he comes back from Singa), Julia and Monett. I don’t know when that’ll happen, 5 years or so? But I know it will happen. Miss you guys so darn much.

Okay, this is pretty sugary. I’m freaking myself out. I think I’m having diabetes or something.

À bientôt.

Beach Boy Strikes Again, 1

Nothing seems to faze Bruce Bautista. One word to describe Bubba: egoist. ‘Nuff said. But I’ll explain it anyway.

He divides his time between hunting for fresh meat, talking gibberish over the phone with nefarious international clients and smoking Marlboro Reds. Obviously, he needs a life. Oh yeah, and he is open to the idea of whoring himself for a living. Juust kidding Ba. Or am I?

The life of a party, Bubba’s a staple in the Doomsville party scene. But when he threw his chunky posterior over into the Say-Boo, beers tasted like sewage water, cigarettes became stale, parties suddenly became dull, and the bully Kim grew bullier. Until Bubba moves back in, it’s impossible for the hapless Doomsvillagers to see the city’s Risorgimento.

He spits fire on anyone who’d say he’s ‘average’ because he is by no means, ‘average’. Besides who would want to be called ‘average’ anyway? Dumb question.

A callboy by profession, psychologist by vocation, and ‘love hunter’ by preoccupation. Not a lot of people knew this side of Bubba. Yes, like all of us mortals, he’s been through the battlefields of l-o-v-e, hit by the brat Cupid’s arrow, and lost himself along the way. But his disability of finding his karmic partner is merely a footnote in the biography of this aloof, arrogant, albeit endearing homo-superior (He thinks his better than than your average homo-sapien. And yes.).

His mouth is in sync with his mental faculties, capable of bursts of rhetoric at a moment’s notice. Mind and mouth; lethal combination huh? For scathing words from a very poisonous mouth, go to Bubba and boy can he deliver the goodies!

He doesn’t appreciate degrading words hurl towards his direction. And if you dare cross him, he’d be more than willing to pummel you with one of the hundred-year-old acacia trees lining Hibbard Ave. But there’s someone whom Bubba can withstand a barrage of nuclear insults from. Me. That’s my only alas against Bubba. Tee Hee.

(to be concluded…)

Been There, Whacked That!

Hey there people of the world! I am back. Well, sort of. Updates on moi.

1. Weight loss. On the last count, I lost 8 pounds in one month. Everyone thinks I'm anorexic or something. Worse, they're speculating I'm into popping pills again. Nope. I'm just "adjusting". To what? That'd be in my next entry. Tee Hee.

2. Career shift. Let's just say I joined the bandwagon of callboys. Why? The story behind it is so funny, and very ironic. But yes, I'll be composing a separate entry for that too. I used to hate IT, I used to hate THEM, but now that I have a first-hand account, my pptv completely changed. I'll be with them for just a couple of months and then I'll go back to my previous preoccupation. Let's see.

3. New Cave. Yes, I moved again. Still in Ortigas, though. And Ben, stress on the second syllable, please. It's orTIgas, not ortiGAS! Cabron!

4. Wait, what else? That pic right there? That was taken 2 weeks ago, yes I look insanely thin in the photog , but wait til you see me now. Pathetic-ally thin! "You're so thin, pwede ka na umilag sa ulan!" said my officemate. Da fak! I don't know if he's trying to be funny, or.. or.. I don't know. Perhaps it's true. And by the way, I want to explain something about the neon jacket. First, that's not mine, honest. Not that it's horrendous, it's actually cute. It's my officemate's, and get this: It glows in the dark!

5. Gawd! Wait.. One moment.. Man.. Wait.. Oh crap! I'd have to cut this entry short, I have a meeting in 10 minutes! God I completely forgot! I'm currently on the phone while typing. Promise, I'll be back..

6. Special thanks to 4 J's and a K, for always reminding me. Jepoi, Jaja, JP (Twiggy Pong), Jon, and Kirsten. Be back. Mam Ja, ndi ko pa kaya magbayad ng 5 entries, pwede installment? Sir Jepoi, I'll be doing my regular rounds pretty soon so be ready. Pong, I'll text you later. Gusto ko muanha Dgte, but not this summer pa. Haay. Jon the man, please enough, your fan mails are flooding my inbox! Joke! Bro, text me inuman tayo. And yung tinext mo sa kin, dude there's a thing called KATANGAHAN! Kirsten, make your own. Ano ka!? Eh I don't have time na nga to breathe tapos gagawa pa kita. Haha. I'll try. And stress on the word TRY. Miss you Kirstipatuti!

Ciao!

LSS: I see you creepin' I can see you from my shadow.. Wanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo.. Maybe go to my place and just kick it like Taebo.. And possibly bend you over.. Look back and watch me smack that..

Mental note: You're in a hurry, remember?

P.S. I don't remember who snap the picture (above) and how. I remember that was like two weeks ago because of the neon jacket. I was just shocked to find it in my inbox. An officemate forwarded it to me, and said it "circulated" (?) already. I have no idea what he meant by that. But the pic's okay, di ba? And the neon jacket's photogenic. But I could've done better!

Random Facts & All that Red Veins

Two Names You Go By:
1~ Lyle (Because that's my name)
2~ Dan (Because that's also my name. And not because I have multiple-personality disorder.)

2. Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1~ Boredom is tightly wrapped around my body right now. It's so suffocating.
2~ And a pair of Insomia hoops dangling from my eyes. It's fash-nable!

Two Things You Want in a Relationship:
1~ Prozac
2~ Valium

Two of Your Favorite Things to do:
1~ Fighting villains. (It's tough when you're all alone.)
2~ Saving the day. (It's tough when the "day" doesn't want to be saved.)

Two Things You Want Very Badly At The Moment:
1~ Sleep. (And lots of it, please. With whip cream, and some choco-chip cookies.)
2~ A medical certificate (So that I can do #1.)

Two things you did last night:
1~ "Work it! I need a glass-o-wotah!" I worked. And worked. Oh, and did I mention that I did work last night. Really? Yeah, I did.
2~ I tried to stay awake. And stress on the word "tried". I think I dozed off for like 2 seconds straight! Imagine that! 2 freakin' seconds straight! My gawd, that's like an achievement, I closed my eyes for 2 seconds STRAIGHT!

Two things you ate today:
1~ Pride
2~ Prejudice (And all that jazz!)

Two people you Last Talked To:
1~ Amanda and Phoebe and Christopher
2~ So what if I spoke with 3 people!? Big deal!

Two Things You'll do tomorrow:
1~ Work (As if I have a choice.)
2~ Still thinking. Hmp. I'm actually contemplating on going awol.

Two favorite beverages:
1~ That ice cold Coco Amigos mug draft!
2~ That bottomless Cafe Memento barako!

Two of your least favorite things to do:
1~ Waking up and realizing your late for work.
2~ Waking up and realizing that people had moved on already.


You must answer every question
~~ I MUST? I refuse to answer this question. Because? Because! Its! Not! Even! A! Question!

[02] Have you ever received roses?
~~ Are you kidding me!? I invented roses!

[03] What is your all-time favorite romance movie?
~~ Alright! I admit! I have a lot! "Nothing beats the first kiss.." But on second thought, Nah.

[04] How many times have you honestly been in love
~~ Uhm. Lemme see.. One.. Two.. Three.. Wait! You know what, if I answer this question, I'd die of diabetes! Ooh so mushy! I'm freakin' myself out! Seriously, THAT four-letter word is such a strong one, I couldn't even utter it.

[05] Do you believe that everyone has a soul-mate?
~~ Yes, but only a handful end up together. Painful, yes, but what is life without pain!? Okay, so I AM mushy. Or just bitter.

[06] Do you think that you should put your friends first?
~~ Before? Before "anyone else"? If you're talking about friends and family, let's just say I'd die for my friends, but I would kill for my family. And the other way around. But if you mean, "someone", I don't know, I haven't met her yet. Or perhaps I already did. I'm clueless.

[07] Have you ever had your heart broken?
~~ If there's anyone who haven't had their poor hearts broken, either they're lying or they're not human. H-U-M-A-N, please look it up in the dictionary.

[8] Your thoughts on online relationships?
~~ J-O-K-E, another word for you. Now GO! Scram! But on second thought, I know a couple who met online and after months of being online bf/gf, they got married, and after months of marriage, they realized that they'd rather be chatmates. So they called it quits. Funny, huh?

[9] Have you ever seen a friend as more than a friend?
~~ What's the big idea asking me all these kinds of questions!? Ahm. Hmp. Let's just say I've been through the whole "I Never! Said! That I love you" thing.

[10] Do you believe the statement, "Once a cheater always a cheater."?
~~ I disagree. Not because I'm a guy and we're SUPPOSED to be A-Holes. But no. Really. We all have the capability to cheat, and sometimes we cheat for the right reasons (right reasons daw o!). Not that I'm a cheater. Well I was once, but it wasn't because I'm an A-hole and all that, but because I haven't found my match yet. Before you stone me to death, that's just half of the story. Let's put it this way: Infidelity begets infidelity. It's the 21st (?) century, kung kaya ng Pinoy, kaya din ng Pinay, ika nga.

[11] How many kids do you want to have?
~~ 3's enough. I think.

[12] What is your favorite color(s)
~~ As of the moment? Red! It complements my sleep-deprived eyes! Bloodshot! Ooh, and all that red veins!

[13] What are your views on gay marriages?
~~ To each his own. Love (that word again!) knows no bounds. It's just about tolerance.

[14] Do you believe you truly only love once?
~~ CoRRRRRRRecto! Sa Senado! Everything else is just playtime, or you know companionship, admiration, and all that crap!

[15] Imagine you're 79 & your spouse just died, would you re-marry?
~~ Well, if I'd be rich, handsome, lonely? Why not choknat! Kidding! By that time, Viagras woul be passe. So, I dunno. Maybe I'd just live with my dog, in a trailer, overlooking the ocean, sipping beer, waiting for twilight to claim me back..

[16] At what age did you start noticing the opposite sex?
~~ When THEY noticed me..

[17] What song do you want to hear at your wedding?
~~ Welcome to the Black Parade. Or Ang Cute ng Ina Mo.

[18] Do you Know someone who likes you?
~~ Oh, they're all after my body. It's soo sad.

(Thanks to my Yani for posing for me. Kuya misses you already.)

When No One's Watching, 2

Everything was present: the unbroken eye contact, the touch of the arm, the girl’s occasional twirling of her hair, the gentle seductive laugh, the guy’s constant raising of the eyebrows, the listener’s nods every now and then, and the focused interest in what the other was saying.

As he spoke, she kept on dipping her head nearer. He could smell the hint of shampoo on her hair despite the overpowering cigarette fumes and the fragrance of cologne floating through the room.

For a moment there, he lost control and reached out to touch her hair. It had been months that they haven’t touched; he was getting so excited. But he stopped himself as he observed the crowd.

He licked his lips and put on his signature winsome smile. As if she knew what he meant by the gesture, she reciprocated and smiled back. “So you wanna get out of here?”

“Sure” he blurted out almost instantly. Shocked by his own reply, he wanted to retract it. But too late. The girl has already stood up, gathered her lighter and the cigarette box. She was motioning for the door.

The guy was a bit hesitant; he knew this wasn’t part of the plan.

“Oh well” he said to himself, “I’ll be ending this affair … some other time.” An exciting night, this is going to be, he thought.

When No One's Watching, 1

In the thick of it all: the tumult of the crowd, the clinking of the glasses, the livid shadows caused by blinding lights, the loud, pulsating noise, the tear-inducing miasma of cigarette smoke: she was there.

Garbed in her favorite tiny red dress, she surveyed the room. Her eyes now fixed on a guy sitting at the bar.

For a moment, he seemed to smile – just a hint on the lips, really. Then she was beside the guy, speaking in a definite tone despite the deafening noise.

“Jay’s out of town.” She was referring to her boyfriend. “Ah okay.” The guy replied, showing a just a little interest to what she just said. But his eyes were saying otherwise.

She leaned over to mouth something to the guy directly in his ear, his breath tickling her breastbone.

At this point and almost carelessly, the guy slipped his hand to caress the girl’s elbow. She drew herself closer as she put her lips nearer his earlobe.

“Haven’t you broken up with her yet?” she asked, without batting an eyelash. He jerked a bit because of the question, looking a bit alarmed. “No, not yet.” He answered tentatively. “But I’m trying.”

Furtively studying the girl’s apparent disappointment, he elaborated. But really, it didn’t matter to the girl what the guy was saying. Though she wanted to probe further, but she didn’t. She knew it was best not to talk about the guy’s girlfriend. Or their respective partners, for that matter.

(to be concluded…)

You... Me... Once More

Sitting so close, I can almost taste her presence. I can feel the gentle gust of air from her mouth fondle the tiny hairs on my face.

Shattering the stillness, she uttered my name. “Lyle?” she said smoothly, like a whetted knife through a lump of butter. Smooth and easy.

Her throaty voice smothers my awareness with images of her ripened thin lips and cherry tongue, forming words in her mysterious moist darkness.

I asked her to sing. Syrupy notes and silky words spewed from her. With her rich, sensuous voice, it trickled on me like hot molasses. More than the sound, her resonance crawled down my body like finger nails gliding on the skin.

Despite the amber glow from the sculpted curve of the small of her back, the shimmer of her glossy pelvis, and the crescent of brightness the bay of her navel encapsulates, it’s all her that I see and hear.

And now that we’ve drifted apart, she’s now but a beautiful memory, a sweet dream, a lovely song of my soul. I close my eyes, listen, and see the luster of her legs, the light on her chest, the ember of her cheeks.

You, me. Once More.

Slowly, He Enters Her, 4

3. Bitiw (Spongecola)

“Ooh Yael! Yael! Yael!” the formulator of the “condom theory” yelped. “Who!?” I asked. “Yael! The vocalist! He’s sizzling!” she said. “That Spongebob person?” I muttered, in between puffing smoke. “Cola, SpongeCOLA."

Wag kang bibitiw bigla, wag ka bibitiw bigla-ha-haah. Pikit ang iyong mga mata-ha-haah. Higpitan lang ang iyong kapit. Maglalayag hanggang langit.

Heto na tayo, heto na tayo, Heto na tayo, heto na tayo. Wooh-hoooh!

Don’t let go, don’t let go (I know you have a more accurate translation in mind. Me too, but let’s just leave it at that, baka ma-report user tayo! Ha-ha!) Your eyes are closed. Tighten your grip. We’ll journey towards heaven together.

Here we come, we’re coming. We’re coming, here we come. Ooooh-aahhh!

Need it say more? Hmp?


2. Stars (Calla Lily)

I’m reminded of Paris Hilton’s “Stars are Blind.” So I turned to the same friend who shares the same promiscuity with Paris. “What the hell’s the connection between crazy gods and blind stars!?” I asked. “Shush! It doesn’t require anyone to think. It’s just her excuse to gyrate and crawl on the sand and shimmy and stuff.”

“Yeah, no issue. She’s just celebrating her being a “dumbelle.” Another friend interjected.


1. Doobidoo Heto Na (Kamikaze)

I personally feel that the lyrics were lacking, the words were chopped off maybe to conceal the real message. Doobidoo? It doesn’t make any sense, it doesn’t feel right.

Heto na! Heto na! Heto na! Waah! Doobidoobi doobidoobi doo Doobidoobi doobidoo wa.

(Robert Langdon mode) Now if we translate it to English and supply the missing words and syllables, we may be able to crack the code.

Here it comes! Here it comes! Here it comes! *moan*

Do (It) (Bey)Bi, Do (It) (Bey)Bi, Do (It) (Bey)Bi, Do (It) (Bey)Bi, Do (It)!
Do (It) (Bey)Bi, Do (It) (Bey)Bi, Do (It) (Bey)Bi, Do (It)!
Yeah *slurp*

Now tell me who else’s clean?

(Author’s note: This entry was written months ago, thus explains the obsolescence of the songs listed. I expected this entry to rate higher and to have more visitors than the other entries. And it did! You perverts!)

Slowly, He Enters Her, 3

7. She’s the One (Christian Bautista)

Now I don’t have that much problems with this one; the lyrics is … uhm … boyband-ish pop crap and all. But it’s the video I’m more concerned of.

So he’s watching the television, channel-surfing and all. And there's a girl, who pops up in every channel, and so he unleashed his perverted alter-ego and starts imagining that he’s with the girl. So she becomes every … uh … fantasy his sick mind can think of.

She transforms from a beauty queen, a rock chick, a skimpily-clad chambermaid (It’s soo internet porn!), to … a girl jumping rope … in slow motion! And then he says, “With bouncing jugs bigger than a Coleman freezer, She’s definitely The One!"

Top 6 and 5: I answered the door, some friends crashed into my place, so TV was so lewdly interrupted … I mean, rudely interrupted.


4. I Still Believe in Loving You (Sara Geronimo)

“Why’s she wearing a condom!?” my Tom-Cruise-sized-Nicole-Kidman-clone friend exclaimed. “What!?” I said, puzzled. My friend’s a pervert alright, but I couldn’t find anything sexually stimulating about Sarah.

“Her Prince Charming just, like, died for chrissakes! And the best she could wear is that abhorrent white condom-like cloaky cloaky thingie!?” she said. “And that’s a problem because?” I said, puzzled.

“How do we know she didn’t run off with his horse?”
“Huh? I don’t get it.”

“She’s wearing the horse’s condom!”

Rrrright.

(to be concluded…)

Slowly, He Enters Her, 2

10. Yakap sa Dilim (Orange and Lemons)

Now this is honest. The composer / singer (Jim Paredes) admitted that this is really an erotic song he wrote when the music-industry was filled with cutesy, sugary, un-poetic, bubblegum popcrap disguised as quality music. Now this is courageous … and literal.

But if you want to extract some political or philosophical sense from the song, Cuddling in the Dark, that’s also completely fine. If you can, that is.


9. Dale Candela (Poyake and Pimp Chicken)

This, I’m not sure of. My best guess would be; while we make kembot to the tune, pinagmumumura na pala tayo. “Dale dale candela, dale dale candela vame”

Dale is … I don’t know. Candela maybe a variation of Caliente which means Hot or Candela as in Candle, so suggests the shape of the … uhm … male reproductive weapon. And Vame may be a take from Vamos meaning “Let’s go” or “Bilis!” or maybe:

Pedro: Pare, na-DALE ko si Maria kagabi.
Juan: Pa’no yun? Eh di ba brown-out kagabi?
Pedro: Eh gumamit kami ng CANDELA.

Plus, if you’re using a nom de guerre like Pimp Chicken, it’s a dead giveaway. Pimp. Get it?


8. Taralets (Imago)

Seemingly harmless, isn’t it? But if we translate this slang into English, that would be “Let’s go” or “Come On” or “C’mon, let’s go … and hit the sack!”

Boy: Taralets! (With a naughty, knowing grin)
Girl: Saan? (Pa-demure effect, with matching pamaypay)
Boy: Alam mo na yun. (Winky wink wink!)

(to be concluded…)

Slowly, He Enters Her, 1

(Author's Note: I wrote this entry many moons ago, just forgot to post it. But anyway, I found the perfect opportunity. Since it's (Egad!) Valentine's season, I'm sure this is very fitting, save for the obsolence. So in line with the Season of Hormones, I give you this!)

Sex is everywhere; perversions abound. Wherever you look, we sex screaming in bold letters.

From commercials (Lahat ng hati na try na ni Heart, pati hating nangangati), campaign posters (Wow Dick!), public service TV programs (Kay Susan Tayo, try pinching your nose while saying it and you’ll get my point) to fishball stands (Harry Balls; Kiss My Balls).

Whenever I watch music channels (MTV, MYX, Ch.V, etc.) I just put on the television and let the music from the boob-tube fill my room as background while I go about my everyday existence. But this morning was different; I sat in front of the TV set watching stupid videos.

It amazes me how music-makers inject a little bit of subtle erotic stuff into their music in order to sell it. Sex sells, let's face it. Even though it’s very obvious that it has “explicit content”, the public still buys it, contending that it’s harmless.

Jumbo hotdog, Kaya mo ba to, Kaya mo ba to? (Jumbo Hotdog, Can you handle this? Can you handle this?) What do you mean you didn’t know that it was a hotdog-as-in-food song? What did you think it meant? Oh … you thought it meant THAT? Now why would you think of such a thing.

Ang kati ng bulaklak, mabaho ang bulaklak (the flower is itchy, the flower is smelly). No, this isn’t malaswa. Just because the song’s belted out by bountifully bosomed bouncy babes bursting out of their shirts?

Ugh. Give me a fuh-reaking break.

So I caught the Myx Daily Countdown on the tube that morning. Honestly I doubt the credibility of this countdown. But that’s beside the point.

(to be concluded...)