Little girl on EDSA

6251276268_3777a1c04c_zGave a little homeless girl a hotdog-on-stick today. Gave her one also yesterday, and I thought it was a one-time thing, but there you go. I guess I just can’t stand seeing her on that grimy EDSA sidewalk, looking as filthy as her surrounding, so young (about 4 or 5 years old) and helpless, without doing anything to help her. A hotdog-on-stick was the least I could do.

Writing this here not for the praises. If I want praises I’d post this on Facebook, complete with a selfie and a witty hashtag. No, not my style…

Kept thinking of those noisy assholes bickering on Facebook. So much politics, so much drama, so much hate. It’s one self-righteous party throwing mud at the other self-righteous party, and it’s been going on for a long time now. It sickens me, and it makes me both sad and mad. All that trash talk, all those holier-than-thou pronouncements. Meanwhile, we have homeless kids on grimy sidewalks, hungry, and nobody seems to care. Whatever the fuck happened to priorities?


Playlist: Mad SeasonAbove; GruntruckPush

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Opened up and said argh!

My outdoor me-time during the weekend was Sunday’s trip to the dentist. Finally, after more than a year, I finally found time to have my teeth cleaned. Weird experience, though. I found the procedure too short for something that was worth P500. The last time I had my teeth scrubbed, by a different dentist but for the same price, the procedure took relatively longer — give or take 30 minutes. Yesterday, I was off the dentist’s chair in about 10 minutes. I sit on the marble throne longer than that in the morning (that’s because I read while I shit, it’s my ritual, and so what?).

Anyway, I made a mental note to try a different dentist next time.

Other weekend highlights (that is, if one can call them highlights):

  • Malling with the girls looking for a white cat costume the kiddo will use in a school program next month
  • Late-night beer and red wine session with the wifey while watching Don’t Breathe
  • Episodes 9, 10, 11 of Sons of Anarchy Season 1
  • The movie War Dogs

See, not much is happening in my world except family.


Playlist: MetallicaRide the Lightning; L7Bricks are Heavy

Surviving eight days of shitstorm

And with the sending of reminders for the next day’s coverage via email and Viber last night, I bid this 1-10 p.m. hell goodbye — at least for the moment, or until my night-shift partner takes another long vacation, which I hope won’t happen anytime soon. To say that it’s been an exhausting, mentally draining eight days is an understatement. A lot of things have happened since Monday last week. Kerwin Espinosa the suspected drug lord was repatriated from Abu Dhabi, Ronnie Dayan the alleged bagman was arrested in La Union, and I fell in love with a young anti-Marcos protester.

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With Sen. Risa Hontiveros (left). Photo from GMA News

Of course there was that surprise heroes’ burial for the late dictator Ferdinand Marcos, which has treachery written all over it, and which sparked lightning rallies across Metro Manila last Friday. And then there were the usual verbal diarrhea from Rodrigo Duterte and his numero uno cheerleader Mocha Uson.

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From PEP.ph

Add to that the fact that two ranking BOC and BIR officials were gunned down in less than a week, and that singer-comedian Blakdyak was found dead inside his apartment with a fucking plastic bag wrapped around his head. And oh, Sen. Leila de Lima also admitted having an affair with Dayan, her former driver-bodyguard, with Dayan saying days later that their relationship lasted for seven years — longer than the average marriage of many celebrity couples. Whoa!

And yesterday, Espinosa faced the Senate for a hearing that lasted from morning to early evening, and which left me too exhausted to nail this shit last night.


Playlist: AnthraxLive: The Island Years; Alice CooperHey Stoopid

Gotta believe in magic

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Highlight of my weekend was watching Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them at the cinema. It was my wife’s idea, as she’s a big Harry Potter/JK Rowling fan, and the movie’s a spin-off of the popular fantasy film franchise. The movie’s OK, even for a non-Harry Potter fan like myself. Just the right kind of visual treat for the family on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Indeed, magic over boredom…

Other stuff that went down over the weekend:

  • General housecleaning
  • Malling with the girls (scored another Suicide Squad T-shirt)
  • Swedish massage and a Savory dinner with the girls
  • Episode 5 of Sons of Anarchy Season 1
  • Episodes 8, 9, 10 and 11 of Undeclared
  • Started reading Preacher Book 5

Monday, I got slammed back to reality and 1-10 p.m. hell.


Playlist: ThemSweet Hollow; AvulsedDeathgeneration

Of Marcos & CD sales

So earlier today, about the same time folks were losing their shit over the sneaky way ex-President Marcos was buried at the Libingan ng mga Bayani, I was having my own mini-nervous breakdown at the Universal Records CD/DVD sale in Quezon Avenue as I browse over the titles. Ugh, they were the same shit as before, and very few of them looked interesting even for P20. I dragged my ass out of the house early for that? Still bought five CDs, though, but only because I may need their jewel cases to replace broken ones in the future. And I also didn’t want to feel like my trip there was a waste of time.

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Five days down, three more to go of my 1-10 p.m. shift. It’s been hell, considering the kind of news we had this week, capped by the Marcos burial this afternoon. Boy did that really stir the hornet’s nest, so to speak. As I type this, way past 1 in the morning on a Saturday, with rain falling outside, thousands were still at the EDSA People Power Monument protesting the treachery. I got friends there, and I wish them safety. I also wish I’ve the energy to join them. But like I said, it’s been a helluva exhausting week. I need sleep badly.

Which is exactly what I’m about to do now…


Playlist: MetallicaHardwired… to Self-Destruct; HumDownward is Heavenward

1-10 p.m.

My shift for the next eight days on account of a workmate whooping it up in Macau…

One thing I don’t like about this shift is I’ve to rush to catch the last southbound MRT train to reach Cubao on my way home. In order to do that I’ve to punch out at 10 on the dot. Of course, in my profession, punching out on the dot is a luxury. Except for a time or two, the nights in the past I did the 1-10 p.m. shift I had to take the bus to Cubao and hoped the scraggly guy next to me was not an armed freak looking for a quick buck.

(One time, however, I sat next to a lady with long shapely legs, and Rupert Holmes’ “Terminal” started playing in my head, and that was that.)

Meanwhile, the weekend:

  • Accompanied the kiddo to her classmate’s birthday party
  • Movies: It’s Already Tomorrow in Hong Kong, Irrational Man and Knocked Up
  • Rock music docu: Oasis: Supersonic
  • Read a couple of Daken: Dark Wolverine issues
  • Coffee Project dinner with the girls
  • Housecleaning
  • Evening stroll with the girls (enjoyed Sunday’s full moon)

And now I start a week that looks like is gonna be a long weird one.


Playlist: Noel Gallagher’s High Flying BirdsNoel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds; OasisThe Masterplan

One sick, exhausted hamster

It’s past 1 a.m. on a Saturday and I just finished watching Episode 2 of Sons of Anarchy Season 1. It’s officially my weekend, and I feel like shit. Runny nose, mild fever, weakness. I may have to spend the next two days in bed. Oh wait, I’ve to accompany the kiddo to a kiddie party later today…

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It was an exhausting, if not depressing, workweek in the news front. Marcos, Espinosa, that little thing in America called Donald Trump — the bars tonight are probably crawling with shell-shocked journalists analyzing the past few days over sisig and mugs of beer. What a week, they’d say. Nothing but doom and gloom out there. Are you ready to cover a nuclear war?

Liars and killers and maniacs. Buffoons fighting buffoons. Inane TV shows. Anger and hate. Narcissists and self-styled moralists on Facebook. Viral videos of jerks being jerks. They screamed at me from every direction. No wonder I punched out Friday a wreck.


Playlist: DismemberDismember

Trumped-up

103000982-gettyimages-488230964-240x240So Trump won the US presidential elections in a stunning upset that left many – including non-Americans – flabbergasted and in the brink of nervous breakdown. For hours following the announcement, Facebook wept and wept and wept. Everybody had their sad little pieces to tell. That’s okay. That’s what social media is all about. Perhaps those people just needed an outlet. I’ve to admit, though, seeing one bleeding heart post after another got kind of annoying after some time. I suddenly missed pictures and videos of babies and cats.

But amid the boo-hoos, some sensible outside-the-box posts, like the one by my Australian friend KT, who said Trump’s victory is the “big giant middle finger” of the group of people that has been dismissed by many—in jokes and memes—as “inbred, retarded, and brainless.” A breath of fresh air, that post.

And then there were the articles that seek to explain what the fuck happened. Kyle Pope of Columbia Journalism Review said Trump’s victory signaled journalism’s “reckoning,” while Margaret Sullivan of the Washington Post faulted the media for “not listening” to voters who “shouted and screamed” for something different. To put it bluntly, Sullivan said, the media missed the story of the 2016 US elections.


Playlist: The DoorsStrange Days; Guns ‘n’ RosesThe Spaghetti Incident; Van HalenA Different Kind of Truth

About yesterday, and today

img_0887Took it easy yesterday. No sense stressing myself out just because it was a Monday. I worked slow and steady, careful about committing embarrassing mistakes. Tried and succeeded at not losing my cool at the creeps and cretins and assorted nobodies with delusions of grandeur that populate social media. And that was that. Monday came and went and another workweek was set in motion. I punched in and I punched out, silently, like a slithering snake.

And then I was at Booksale in Farmers Plaza rummaging through assorted worlds. Scored a Po Bronson title called The Nudist on the Late Shift for P50. Indeed, when gloomy, score a book. That has been my mantra. Screw money, screw the backlog.

Spent late night cleaning my bike, a leftover task from the weekend. Then I put a Feeder best-of album on the player and rocked ’til bedtime, which was past 1 a.m.

And then Tuesday came, November 8, and thanks to the Supreme Court, it will be a day that will forever live in infamy.


Playlist: ExtremePornograffitti; DarkthroneArctic Thunder; ObituaryTen Thousand Ways to Die

Help wanted: Beer pals

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Taken from the walkway connecting Farmer’s Plaza to Gateway Mall at the Araneta Center on Friday night, hours after it was lit up in a ceremony attended by beauty queens and, ugh, Vice Ganda. Standing there, soaking up the night, I wished I was drunk. Or at least tipsy. I really felt like celebrating something that night. Guess I was lonely. It happens.

It was a sober kind of weekend. Me and the girls didn’t even go out. We just stayed at home and enjoyed each other’s company. The highlights:

  • Finished watching third season of Black Mirror
  • Started watching Gotham Season 3
  • Watched Ep. 6 of Undeclared (Adam Sandler as guest!)
  • Finished reading Book 2 of 100 Bullets
  • A Coen brothers movie: Burn After Reading
  • Biked for 19.72 kms
  • Dropped by D__’s place, some chitchat, first time with the sun up, and sans beer
  • Watched the Pacquiao-Vargas bout on cable (boring fight, methinks. Bob Arum was the true winner)

So there. Another weekend over. I still haven’t seen Dr. Strange, and I kind of miss the company of friends.


Playlist: NirvanaIncesticide; The Damned ThingsIronclast; Third Eye BlindThird Eye Blind