If looks could kill (reprise)

I'm reposting this piece (posted more than a year ago) because the experience happened again this morning and as before, gave me a rush of blood in the head.


A man is measured by his accomplishments and worth, they always say. We always look up to the great men of our soceity, that's true. But how can you size up someone whom you've just met? Or in this case, you just rode the bus with, or travelled in the train, or you just plainly see in the coffeeeshop. It's sad to admit but we always judge people just by how they look. Appearance always influenced the way we treat people. It's as if there's something in looking better that makes one a better person than the other sitting next. Well, maybe there is something (the term "lamang ng isang paligo" comes to mind). You can ask the guy whose heart just got busted out by a former girlfriend because a better looking man came along. Ask marketing executives. Or better yet, ask advertising agents and beauty consultants. They will always say: LOOKS SELLS. Well, I can see that. They have their millions of profit laughing all the way to the bank.

Okay, then. I have no problem with that. If Anna Kournikova earns so much out of tennis marketing without even winning a grand slam, i have no objection. What makes me sick is how people look at someone and think is somewhat inferior to them-- especially if its in the physical aspect. And this kind of incident always come in two packages-- Appearance and race.

This morning while going to my office, i rode a bus with a fairly attractive lady sitting in the seat before mine. As the bus went on its route, more people went in and gets fuller until the seat of that lady was the only one vacant(we all know in a bus we always sit in pairs). One indian guy came up the bus after it halted on a bus loading/unloading point, and seeing that the only seat available is that of the young lady, he went on to sit on it. The young lady shrugged away, covered his nose and make all the "yuckie" gestures that she can make, and made sure their clothes dont even touch. Seeing this made blood rush to my head. Just because this lady thought that she's pretty(well she is, i have no problem about that), she already made a judgement that this guy, who courteously and even reluctantly sitted next to her (even sitting just at the edge) was way below her par that she can have all the liberty in the world to publicly humiliate him. Never mind that maybe this guy is a physicist or rocket scientist (I'm just making a point, of course). What i really wanted to say is that it's sad to realize this. Because however beautiful one may look, it doesn't give him/her the right or even previlege to mock another person's appearance. It's a human being, for crying out loud.

We always hear the old saying " Don't juge a book by its cover". It's so popular saying it is cliché. But unfortunately, people don't really learnt from it. Especially the ones who thinks they're so special and much glorified by a bunch of suckers.

Why it pays to wear underwear

William sent me this joke cartoons by mail (which is circulating around I guess). Instead of forwarding it to only several people in my mailbox, i decided to post it here so you, my blog readers (yes, the two of oyu fellas) can have a cracking good time. It's a bit borderline comedy since it's about our "hanging jewel", but let's concentrate on the lighter side of it instead.

We made fun out of women's size in my last post, so it's time for you gurls to laugh at us back. Go ahead.

" Why it pays to wear underwear"

Fire that Grill

Being in a cosmopolitan city, i always observed that in any kind of races, middleaged couples (and even some still in their 30's), the woman or wife tend to get bigger or fatter through the years of marriage than their male counterpart. This doesn't apply to everyone of course since there are still a lot of women who took care of themselves and those some who are really genetically blessed. But more often than not though, it's always the wife who packs up the lard as years pass by. I guess we can link this to childbirth and all that women stuff that are more complex than solving calculus.

I've always wondered how a thin husband would address this situation to her fat wife, and more importantly, how the wife would react.

Then I found this JOKE.

A husband and his wife who have been married 20 years were doing some yard work. The man was working hard cleaning the BBQ grill while his wife was bending over, weeding flowers from the flower bed.

So the man says to his wife, "Your rear end is almost as wide as this grill." She ignored the remark.

A little later, the husband takes his measuring tape and measures the grill, then he goes over to his wife while she is bending over, measures her rear end and gasps, "Geez, your butt really IS as wide as the grill!" She ignores this remark as well.

Later that night while in bed, her husband starts to feel frisky. The wife calmly responds, "If you think I'm gonna fire up the grill for one little wiener, you are sadly mistaken."

Space Apache

Another drawing excavated from the rubble on my files... A pinup drawing I did way back 2002 I guess... One of the comic ideas I've been planning to do but just can't have the time to. I hope i can do this in the near future, and replace it with a more chic title. "Space apache" seems a bit cheesy.

THE CHICKEN IS OUT!!!

"ELMER" to be out by end of the month

If you're a comics loving individual in the Philippines and haven't heard about ELMER, then I don't know which cave you've been practicing mantra all these days.

ELMER, the most anticipated creation of premier Philippine comicbook creator and friend Gerry Alanguilan(Wasted, X-men, Superman: Birthright) is now seing prints and will be available in most comicbook stores in Manila by end of the month, as Gerry has announced in his blog.

This book is about a chicken (elmer) who thinks, talks and has an attitude like a human. You can browse to some of the comicbook's preview pages, and I bet my piggy-bank dollars that you will love it, even for just the witty humor the creator has cunningly injected on the story. It's really easy to miss that Elmer is indeed a chicken especially with the build up to the actual appearance of the main character. I have been a convert since reading the teaser pages, and like other artists, just have to make my own fan art. I'd be going home this June, so that means I can get a hand for a copy on this.

There's even a dedicated site that Gerry created for it, and a TRAILER to boost!

ELMER is published by Gerry's own KOMIKERO Publishing.

THE ENGINEER ON AN ISLAND

This joke is just so funny for me I have to share it...

THE ENGINEER ON AN ISLAND

An engineer finally splurged on a luxury cruise to the Caribbean. It was the "craziest" thing he had ever done in his life. Just as he was beginning to enjoy himself, a hurricane roared upon the huge ship, capsizing it like a child's toy. Somehow the engineer, desperately hanging on to a life preserver, managed to wash ashore on a secluded island.
Aside from beautiful scenery, a spring-fed pool, bananas and coconuts, there was little else. He lost all hope and for hours on end, sat under the same palm tree.
One day, after several months had passed, a gorgeous woman in a small rowboat appeared. "I'm from the other side of the island," she said. "Were you on the cruise ship, too?"
"Yes, I was," he answered. "But, where did you get that rowboat?"
"Well, I whittled the oars from gum tree branches, wove the reinforced gunnel from palm branches, and made the keel and stern from a Eucalyptus tree."
"But, what did you use for tools?" asked the engineer.
"There was a very unusual strata of alluvial rock exposed on the south side of the island. I discovered that if I fired it to a certain temperature in my kiln, it melted into forgeable ductile iron. Anyhow, that's how I got the tools. But, enough of that," she said. "Where have you been living all this time? I don't see any shelter."
"To be honest, I've just been sleeping on the beach," the engineer said.
"Would you like to come to my place?" the woman asked. The engineer nodded dumbly.
She expertly rowed them around to her side of the island, and tied up the boat with a handsome strand of hand-woven hemp topped with a neat back splice. They walked up a winding stone walk she had laid around a Palm tree.
There stood an exquisite bungalow, painted in blue and white.
"It's not much, but I call it home." Inside, she said, "Sit down, please; would you like to have a drink?"
"No, thanks," said the engineer. "One more coconut juice and I'll throw up!"
"It won't be coconut juice," the woman replied. "I have a crude still out back, so we can have authentic Pina Coladas."
Trying to hide his amazement, the man accepted the drink, and they sat down on her couch to talk. After they had exchanged stories, the woman asked, "Tell me, have you always had a beard?"
"No," the engineer replied, "I was clean shaven all of my life until I ended up on this island."
"Well if you'd like to shave, there's a razor upstairs in the bathroom cabinet."
The man, no longer questioning anything, went upstairs to the bathroom and shaved with an intricate bone-and-shell device honed razor sharp.
Next he showered, not even attempting to fathom a guess as to how she managed to get warm water into the bathroom, and went back downstairs. He couldn't help but admire the masterfully carved banister as he walked.
"You look great," said the woman. "I think I'll go up and slip into something more comfortable."
As she did, the engineer continued to sip his Pina Colada. After a short time, the woman, smelling faintly of gardenias, returned wearing a revealing gown ashioned out of pounded palm fronds.
"Tell me," she asked, "we've both been out here for a very long time with no companionship. You know what I mean. Haven't you been lonely, too...isn't here something that you really, really miss? Something that all men and woman need? Something that would be really nice to have right now!
"Yes, there is!" the man replied, shucking off his shyness. "There is something I've wanted to do for so long. But on this island all alone, it was just...well, it was impossible."
"Well, it's not impossible, any more," the woman said.
The engineer, practically panting in excitement, said breathlessly: "You mean...you actually figured out some way we can CHECK OUR E-MAIL.!!"

Commercial interlude

A part of a radio commercial I've been hearing quite frequently here in singapore about re-kindling passion between couples married for a long time.

Wife's voice:

He used to call me "SWEETIE PIE"

When we got married he called me "HONEY"

When i gave birth to John he called me "MOMMY"

Now, he calls me : "HOY!"

The big "H"

I've been a good boy (at least that's what I'm aware of) for more than a year now. Being a "good boy" means not going out with the barkadas to pubs, and always going home straight from office. I've been like this since Jean and Fergus was approved PR also and joined me here in Singapore. Though Jean doesn't strict me with not going out rules, I just want to do my part, especially that commodities, rent and utilities are rocketting high. plus i got busy with my "passion work" for comics that prettily occupied my free times as well as weekends, not to mention playing with my kid. I've had some drink since but it's only in the house or a house of a friend where we go as family, and it was moderate. I haven't really been drunk like I used to be for over a year now... Until last Saturday.

It was William Henry's birthday and he celebrated it especially that his wife May and his newborn baby girl has just joined him here too. When we (w/ Jean and Fergus) arrived at the barbecue area in William's Condo, the usual assassins were there-- my drinking barkadas (William is one of them), some with their wives and children too. We had fun meeting again since it has been a while and talked what has been going on lately.

Jean was busy talking to May and the rest of the gals and Fergus had a good time playing with the other kids. By this time we were already drinking the second bottle of Chivas. The "tuksuhan" talking and the "fell good" conversation went on and even touched topics like longevity, philippine government conspiracy, tranferring to another office, growing old and either to migrate to western countries like our predecessors did or just stay and be merry here. Of course, when you talk and drink, you don't usually keep track of how many pours of whisky has been poured in your glasses (which I continually drank).

When Jean approached me and told me it's time to go home, I hesitated a bit but agreed anyway. It's only that time that i saw three empty bottles of Chivas and 2 empty bottles of ol' good JW-B. The third one is curretly being circulated.

After that I can't remember what happened anymore. the last vague thing I commit to memory was saying goodbye to William. I didn't remember carrying my kid or riding a taxi back home.

Realization to the world woke me up at 4 a.m. the following morning. My stomach seem to be stirred by some uknown forces and I've been talking with the toilet bowl five to six for the next two hours, until there was nothing to pump out but putrid bitter saliva.

Welcome back... old friend.

Champion's League final Hangover

I'm sad. No, that's an understatement. I'm brokenhearted. It's the feeling of emptiness when all the while you feel like you're going to succeed but then, heaven came crashing down to make dream into a nightmare.

I retired early last night to watch the Champions' League final between Barcelona and Arsenal at 2:00 am this morning (Singapore time). It was a dream final, most people say. A culmination of a great season where two teams who reached the finals undefeated slug it out to become the best in Europe and lift the most prestigious club trophy in the world.

I like Barcelona. In fact, for the past two years I've been a fan of the Catalan giants more than i've been for Real Madrid. This was mainly because they play with flair and they entertain you with their game, with the brazilian wizard Ronaldinho at the heart of it.

But this morning I'm not a Barcelona fan. For this morning my heart was with the team i've supported ever since I came to Singapore. A team who have defied all odds this season to reach the final. A team that clawed their way from domestic league embarassment and translate their newfound confidence by demolishing Real Madrid and Juventus on their way to this final. A team that made Champions' League record of 11 clean sheets-- eleven consecutive matches without conceeding a goal... ARSENAL.

Back to this morning. Right at the start, there were moments that lifted me out of my seat (as I watched alone in the living room, staring intently to the big projection tv with a beer in hand) as Arsenal almost drew first blood twice from a Henry shot if not for The barcelona keeper's heroics.

The coldness of my beers seem to flush all over me when at the 18th minute to the game, Arsenal keeper Jens Lehman was given a red card for grasping the surging Samuel Eto'o instead of the ball, ejecting the keeper from the game and left Arsenal with 10 men on the pitch.

But Arsenal responded by taking off Robert Pires to make way for Manuel Almunia. Ronaldinho then squandered two free kicks that follows after. Barcelona captain Carlos puyol fouled Emannuel Eboue, which prooved to be costly since Henry wasted no time to chip a free kick that was slotted home by Arsenal centreback Sol Campbell.

My heart surge. I began to believe that this can be a fairytale match afterall. That an underdog can overturn a favourite. David slaying Goliath... At least for the next 50 minutes.

With 20 minutes left, Henry again squandered a wonderful opportunity to deliver what would have been a fatal blow to the Catalanians. A clear pass by Hleb'sthrough the inside right channel sent the Frenchman steering his low shot too close to Valdes (the goalkeeper), who had got his positioning exactly rightand has no problem smothering the coming ball..

It would have been Henry's 50th goal in European competition, perhaps the final glorious act of a glorious Arsenal career, since rumour has it that he'll be wearing the Barcelona jersey next season.

But the fairytale ending was not to be. The promise, as what arsenal fans liked to call it, will not be fulfilled. Six minutes after that chance was spurned, Barcelona equalised, Larsson's flick inside the box allowing Eto'o to get round the back of the back four and squeeze the ball between Almunia and his near post. Eto'o was clearly offside, but referee allowed it. It left me fuming.

Worse was to follow for the Arsenal goalkeeper four minutes later when Larsson spotted Belletti's surge into the box. The substitute's momentum carried him past two Arsenal defenders and his shot found the net through the goalkeeper's legs.

It's ironic that a team who only conceeded two goals in the entire competition, unbeaten, and hasn't conceeded any goals in the past 11 matches have conceeded 2 goals within 4 minutes of the dying time of the match.

Barcelona was crowned champions of Europe. And for an Arsenal fan it was a bitter pill to swallow. Especially after all the belief and thoughts...

I haven't even finished my beer. It tasted like vinegar to me at that time.

Heartbreak aside, I have to give it to Barca. Their never say die spirit propelled them to a level above all others. They were champions of Spain two weeks ago, now they are champions of Europe.

With this win, and with a win in the world cup, Barcelona's talismanic playmaker Ronaldinho will surely be destined to be elevated to the same pantheon as Pele, Maradona and Cryuffs are in football history-- up there among the best. Ever.

Dawn of a Legend

I first learned of Zinadine Zidane when I accidentally flipped over the channels of my tv to a football game. This was in 1998 and the game was the Champion's League finals between Juventus and Real Madrid. Living then in the Philippines, and the country being a predominantly basketball-crazy nation, I can count with my finger the footballers that i knew, and some of them already retired, like Pele, Maradona, Cantona and Ronaldo. As I said earlier, I "accidentally" tuned the tv to that game but I was so smitten by the beutiful move of a Juventus midfielder that i have to watch the game until it was finished. The midfielder was Zidane. They lost the game but from then on football was never the same for me. It's not the boring girl's game as i used to know it before. Ronlado's introduced me to the brute force and magnificence of the game in world cup 1994. Zidane introduced me to its beauty and flair, that football can be played with such grace and smoothness you just can't help but awed. 1998 proved to be the beginning of Zidane's career as he won the World cup that year, voted FIFA World footballer of the year(An award he won three times--1998, 2000 & 2003--with only Ronaldo equalling same feat), and the Euro 2000 two years later. When I moved to football-crazy Singapore in 2001, it was also the time when Zidane became the most expensive fooballer ever when Real Madrid bought him from Juventus for a record of almost Euro70 million (47m pounds). This was the time when he won both the Spanish Primera Liga and the European Champions' League with Ronaldo and Luis Figo as team mates, the Galacticos, as they are dubbed.

Zidane's story has been as easy to identify with as it has been popular. His childhood in the poor quarter of Marseille, his first training shoes with the great Raymond Kopa's name etched onto them, the poster of Michel Platini in Juventus colours on his bedroom wall. And the games, never-ending, in the back lanes and on the stone playing fields of the old port city. He told much later, in that droll way of his: "Give me grass, and studs, and I'll show you beauty. But believe me, when I'm on tarmac, and in trainers, I am much, much better..."

There's no arrogance in that statement. It's simply not a part of Zidane's make-up.

In 2004, Zidane was named to the FIFA 100, a list of the 125 greatest living footballers selected by Pele as a part of FIFA's centenary celebrations. In 2004, he was also voted the best European player for the past 50 years in the UEFA Golden Jubilee Poll.

Last week Zidane has bid farewell with his last game in a Real Madrid shirt. It's strange feeling having to remind yourself that Zinedine Zidane's talent is not everlasting, and that he will no longer play football beyond this summer. It seems awfully to be thinking that I've just savored his last match, and even odder to be missing him before he has even got to Germany and his World Cup swansong... And I will be one of those who will not miss to see as Zizou work on his wonders' last breaths with France before he hang his boots permanently, as his named will forever be etched in football history as one of the greatest, if not the best, of his generation.

Below is a clip of some of Zidane's best moments in his magnificent career.

Oldest Recreation

Jean has a passion for teaching. She had set her mind eversince she was young that she will be one, even if her siblings wanted other careers. Even after persuasion from her closest friends to join them and study nursing, she remained true to her dream and went on to enroll in UB Teacher's College. And after graduating top of her class ad passing Teacher's board with distinction, she fulfilled her dream of becoming one.

When she was still teaching in the Barrio, she liked to counsel parents and families whom she thought would benifit from one. Though most of these families would shy away from her thinking she's "too beautiful" or "too fair" to be their friend(I can't imagine the inferiority complex of these people). But this doesn't stopped her from doing so. She would stop in one of his student's house once in a while after class and talk to the student's parents.

One time he dropped by Mario's (one of her brighter student, and a very helpful one) house. It's a small hut made most of Coconut lumber, loose abaca and broken bamboos. Mario has 6 other siblings who were solely fed by the father who is a "mananaka" or "manananggot"(in bisaya), a coconut farmer, in english.

Noticing that the youngest, an infant, was being fed with kalamansi juice instead of milk, she asked why, and the mother answered that she had very few milk in her breast, and there's no money for them to buy milk.

Jean then asked the father why he bred so many if he cannot buy milk and support all the kids with their basic needs.

The father answered: " Ma'am we're very poor. We don't have television or radio or other form of entertainment like you guys do. This is the only recreation I knew, aside from having tuba(coconut wine) with my buddies."

Hearing this narrated by my wife, it amused me so much... An amusement that left a very bitter aftertaste.

East Coast Park Photos

Below are some of the pictures taken last sunday at East Coast Beach Park here in Singapore.



Bogs Tisoy was all smile knowing we're going to the beach


Typical view of the East Coast beach during weekends


Starting to play in the sands with Mona (friend's daughter)

Louie and Mark setting up the litson manok with the barbecues. Looking are Adafe, chona andJjiji. You can definitely feel the heat of the sun in this picture.


Finally made it to the water


The ones who were not dippin': Jiji, Jean, May, Chona and Mark.


Fergus ready to play the ball after bathing


Playing cards in the tent


The beach skating rink. We wanted to skate, but opted for the bike instead.


The vast wakeboarding pond. There are suspended automatic cables that you hold to while it runs at the speed equal to that of a speedboat. The first time I tried it, I only manage a mediocre 10 metres so I gave it a pass this time.


Night falls. The sunburns are already evident in the faces.


... and flat to bed after a whole day of outdoor playing.

About A Girl (Part 2)

I was about to go inside my Surveying class when I saw my female board mate talking to her! They knew each other? My chest began to rump up thinking that I can actually ask my board mate about this lady and eventually know things about her! But of course even if I get to know her (which I don't give much chance to happen), there's still the big problem--her boyfriend. That brawny guy who looked tough and can really defend her. Well I know girls looked for guys whom they can feel secure with and that guy was really one of those. Though I don't know about his cerebral capability though.

As if God heard me, right in front of me, there he is--the guy I was talking about. The boyfriend of the girl I was so fond to watch every afternoon--and he is my classmate in this particular class. Darn. And to add insult to injury, I was the one paired with him on our actual field surveying. I learned that his name was "Pike"(what kind of name was that?). And I learned that he's also in the University basketball varsity team (so what? I was the school's artist league president! Err... Does that count as a babe point?).

After an hour of instructions with our mentor, we headed for the football field to put what we have studied to an actual surveying transit. As we walk there, Pike tried to engage me in conversation. He talked too much, I thought, while just shrugging on everything he said. I was not really listening to whatever it was he was uttering--which I know were all self-centered bull sh**s. I was busy comparing myself with him. And it only add more to my inferiority complex. I looked pathetic compared to this burly guy. I tried working out once but I stopped when I almost can't get up after because of terrible body aches. I was afraid it may damage my pulse and it may affect the way I draw and of course, write (well sometimes you tend to find so much excuse just for plain laziness).

As we go on with our actual studies, I found out more things about this guy. Not only did that he do things stupidly (Even asking how to position his eyes in the lens of the transit, ugh!), he also has this funny body odor when he started to sweat. I wonder how that girl take this bum every time he visit her from a basketball game and smelling like onion.

That night I really grilled my board mate about her. And this is what I found out: Her name was Joanne. She was 3^rd year in Teacher's College, a dean's lister, and the best news of all--just broke up with her boyfriend!!! Damn. She must have noticed the funny smelling perspirations too (not to mention the stupid questions). Maybe that's why Pike kinda looked gloomy earlier that day.

I decided to take the first step to this dream girl. I wrote a poem about her (yeah, yeah, it's mushy i know) and let my board mate give it to her. I think my board mate was thrilled of the idea of being cupid so she was more than happy to deliver the package. That started it all. Joanne liked my poem (she described it as "wonderful", though I personally think the poem was crap and cheesy) and sent me a letter too. After that, we met.

... to be concluded

Sun and burns

We went to East Coast Beach Park again last sunday, knowing that Monday (May 1) was holiday and I can do my takehome job on that day. The quality of the sea water here is a far cry from the ones I was used to in the Philippines, especially the crystal-clear blues of bohol. But it will do, since bathing is not the only thing you can do in East coast park.

We left the house early so we can find a good place to camp, knowing it will be really difficult to find one once you go there late, the place being too crowded on weekends. After we set out our tent, Mark and Louie (my housemates) started to prepare the barbecue and Jean took out the meat and seafood to roast while I unfolded the picnic table. Though many did barbecue in there, ours made passersby turn heads since we were the only one who roasted a whole chicken (litson manok) in there, and the stuff jean put in that chicken's stomach made it to other people's nostrils. It maybe ordinary in the Philippines to see this kind of thing in the beach, but NOT here in singapore. Roasted chickens are thing you see only in food stalls.

After eating, me and Fergus dipped in the beach water before we joined Jean Biking. The others went skating. I wanted to try wakeboarding again, but I felt that I will only make it to the next 10 metres or so before crashing in the water (just like the last time, and it's not cheap)... So I did not.

It's only in the afternoon that we noticed the sunburns in our bodies. Jean, being the fairier, got the most. Her face and arms got really red and she blamed me for forgetting to bring the sunblock. I told her she's still pretty even with sunburns, but that made no impact.

I wanted to stay for the night there and go home by Monday morning but the women insisted on going home by that night coz they wanted to catch "Pinoy Big Brother" on TFC. hay... Women.

But we had fun... And it's all that matters.