when an anti-establishment hippie is established...

                                                               V E N d E T T a a a a a !

Posted by: Hoon at 07:48 | link | comments

It was either some quirky female lead in a romantic comedy

or a pensive poet who once said,

“the Greatest Loves don’t necessarily last Forever….”

Necessarily--- not that great loves shouldn’t last forever,

(it would be a perfect orange world if they did),

but that sometimes,

the sweetest,

most amazing

magical love rushes

are those that do end———

quickly,

abruptly,

and always,

always

too memorably.

 

+  +  +  bisou little orc +  +  +

Posted by: Hoon at 07:41 | link | comments

WHAT HWAT WAT???

Sooo the grand television debut of the reluctant turned over-exuberant namby pamby troop aired on the Lifestyle network this weekend.

 

Was it everything I hoped it to be, meaning a revolutionary concept in reality wining and dining that would deconstruct the whole media age into shattered little orbs of mass confusion??

 

Or was it exorbitantly and mercilessly chopped up, leaving each of us but a three second frame shot, perhaps four, then rehashed into some completely different storyline, one entirely unbeknownst to our merry motley of 6?

 

Were our precious good names shamelessly exploited into endorsing a Home TV shopping product? Did they cut and paste poor, defenseless Carive into the pasty neck of some insecure teen-ager in an old nose enhancing ad and our innocent exchanges of dialogue dubbed into perfectly modulated sales pitches?

 “But that’s not all! Buy a pair of plastic nose enhancers now and in the process you will receive a rubber latex nose in your specified shape, color and angle of pointedness—all for free!!!”

Did the celery get more TV exposure than me? 

Was my T-zone obscured by a ghastly film of oil?

 

Was it? Were they? Did they? Did it? Was ittt???????

 

Well sadly for me and my T-zone, we will never know.

 

You see, on that day of the grand premiere, I was at Mommy Miko’s bar, fending off the hundredth and one attempt of a certain Carlo of Ratsky’s to get me to dance to Ne-Yo’s ‘So Sick.’ I would probably have relented had his motives stemmed from the fact that he found me too cute in my racy lacy little orange number, but fact is, he was just dying to show off his slick as grease dance moves and cannot summon enough nerves to do it by his sad and drunken little self.

 

And where was Karen my twinster when all of this was happening? Twik, who was the single root of this entire lights, camera, eeeyakkshin! venture, being the buddy of world-famous (well, not really—it just exudes the necessary theatrical feel) director, and thus the first person you would expect to have a taped and transcribed recording of the entire dreamlike sequence???  Twik, who was in Manila and not in the sandy world of Puerto Galera with the watered down Mindoro Sling and the persistent proposals of ‘sayaw tayo’ chiming every fifteen seconds in her ear? My twik, who was in all probability geographically situated some five steps away from a cable-ready television and not 5 thousand kilometers away across the briny seas where no one probably has even encountered the syllables Namby Pamby in their lives? 

 

Well she was asleep.

 

And so, as of 6:50 pm this Tuesday, two days after we were broadcast, still no one to confirm either the success or sheer embarrassment of it all.

 

Perhaps no one’s seen it.

 

And well, i s'pose that's not entirely a bad thing after all. 

Posted by: Hoon at 11:39 | link | comments (2)

Antoine Autain: hey girl what's new
shahooondog: had Frents lunts today
Antoine Autain: frents lunts ? what's that ?
shahooondog: fren TS  (ch) Lun TS (ch) = french lunch!!!
Antoine Autain: huh huh
shahooondog: mathematical conversion
shahooondog: of languagge
Antoine Autain: j xdou ipnd upfbz
Antoine Autain: pi sdbmmz ?
shahooondog: j (xdou) + ip (ND) = up FBZ?
shahooondog: yup.
shahooondog: got that
Antoine Autain: btd zpv tvsd ?
shahooondog: joowit dung
Antoine Autain: fuck i made mistakes
Antoine Autain: bsd instead of btd
Antoine Autain: if not you cant understane
Antoine Autain: understand
shahooondog: it means the same in my language, only the t is more formal,
shahooondog: as in when you're addressing an older person, or your profesor for example.
Antoine Autain: joowit dung ?
Antoine Autain: i didnt get that
shahooondog: you dont know?
Antoine Autain: no
shahooondog: joo to the double-uth powet of it times the properties of dung
shahooondog: power
shahooondog: joo--> may represent the singular pronoun of either 'I ' or 'you', depending on the structure of the sentence
shahooondog: double 'u'th power, meaning it's you times two
shahooondog: it---a commonly used word in the english language
Antoine Autain: i feel lonely
Antoine Autain: who are you talking with ? me ?
shahooondog: why, yes.
Antoine Autain: im lost
shahooondog: i thought we were speaking mathematical glap?
Antoine Autain: yes but "joo to the double-uth powet of it times the properties of dung" is a secret language for me
shahooondog: darn.
shahooondog: i must have taken a higher level of mathematial glap
shahooondog: i'm on my a levels you know
Antoine Autain: it like, gloglo boiyme whale\whala tt koulouwi boulowo makit
shahooondog: ahh thats elementary mathematical glap
Antoine Autain: no, african
shahooondog: african glap?
Antoine Autain: but i was not sure between whale or whale
Antoine Autain: or whala*
Antoine Autain: i think its whala
shahooondog: maybe walla walla
Antoine Autain: whala tod, ouki pouki nawlwha gum
shahooondog: mm mm
shahooondog: yes yes\
Antoine Autain: the secret power of the Force
shahooondog: can i put this on my blog?
Antoine Autain: goulilum poukawi pukaye nalwahe
Antoine Autain: if you want so
Antoine Autain: its like a drunkhards conversation but, its your blog...
Antoine Autain: ngwale bokaya ?
shahooondog: yeaa!! i'll put right now.
Antoine Autain: we glap so funny glaps on glap issues, i cant glap it
Antoine Autain: wich one ?
shahooondog: this
Antoine Autain: which blog i meant
Antoine Autain: you have like three blogs
shahooondog: motiimmme
Antoine Autain: ok
Antoine Autain: you shall introduce me as a linguist
Antoine Autain: specialised in unknown languages
shahooondog: its there
shahooondog: maybe hurts the eyes a bit
shahooondog: hah.eternally prserved insanity
Antoine Autain: damned

Posted by: Hoon at 08:38 | link | comments

.......

Giving myself away

Again to what I long had

Traded for:

Respect and

Strength and

Steel and stone

And limbs that wanted

Life alone….

 

 

 

 

Posted by: Hoon at 03:58 | link | comments (1)

    Speaking of barracudas…

 

Of course no one was speaking, literally of them, but I’m taking the chance that someone in here at least had the thought of these silvery sea creatures cross their mind once today... or yesterday or last week. Or three weeks ago. But then this would be stretching the limits of our above statement so let’s scratch that and begin with----

Momentarily distracted by the thought of barracudas anytime this last past month...

(okay that sounds better) ...

 

I went on a trip to Coron, Palawan this weekend. My second night of stunning visual and mental immersion ended at Norman’s Place, a quaint little discotheque that had approximately three singles pounding from the speakers. 1) Don’t cha from the Pussycat Dolls 2)Buttons from the Pussycat Dolls and 3) My Humps fro Black Eyed Peas. The deejay very skillfully rotated the three to such extent that no one really noticed that everybody was dancing to the same song every five minutes.

 

Anyway, I remember too late of a planned expedition to Club Paradise at Dimakya island the next day, as the night had pretty  much already moved into 'the next day'. This island is approximately an hour from our cozy little seafront dwelling zone by land and another half-hour boat ride away. That night/ night lapse into day, I get approximately one hour of attempted sleep and 30 minutes of actual rest.

 

Upon my sleepless albeit animated arrival at Club Paradise, I had no other purpose except to see exactly what Tequila Mike was going on in the boat about. The Englishman who talked like the Beatles claimed that all the other beaches in Palawan had nothing on this group of islands up north. I intend to find out why this is so. And so armed with a set of fins and a snorkel, I march up to Dirk Fahrenbach, divemaster extraordinaire of the Dugong Dive Center in the island, who points to the bright blue yonder and grandly reveals the exact location of the largest living clam in the world—even bigger then the one published in the Guinness Book.

 

 I look out at the end of his massive fingers and realize it’s a good thirty to forty meters away from the shore, and seeing that he didn’t seem to have any plans of joining me, I would be alone on this quest. This is fine, as I’ve gone on many swimming trips by myself, except I’ve never gone out on a serious mission of actually attempting to find something, especially one as ominous sounding as a ‘giant clam.’ I venture slowly but surely out into the dazzling blue, happily stopping every time I saw some fish, mesmerized and relieved that there were other forms of life out there and that I wasn’t alone alone.

 

 A few more tentative meters out and I discover I could no longer see anything. Everything has become a nauseatingly dusky shade of blue and I seem to suddenly have all around me some very massive and unidentifiable sea objects. Of course I wanted to turn back and forget all about this giant clam, which could turn out to be a man-eating mollusk for all I know, but pride and foolish determination steered, or rather bobbled me on. And just as the huge ambiguous form to my left was beginning to take on the features of one scowling sea thing, I feel a tap on my shoulder and a splash of fins. Dirk was signaling to my mask.

 

 “They’re all fogged up,” he said as his clean and hairless head pops out a few inches away from my matty and wild-haired one. He gathers some spit to wipe it with—my throat had become too dry from swallowing mini-shrieks and gasps.

 

Only after that do I feel like the world’s largest dork, two seconds before Dirk points to me the world’s largest clam—it was right below me the whole time. Surrounded by the most fantastic display of underwater activity I’ve ever seen in my life. There were more fish and marine life in that spot than the entire cast of Little Mermaid and Finding Nemo combined.

 

            After that Dirk takes me to see some sea turtles—who obviously did not appreciate my face looming in absolute glee. They looked like leathery green angels, gliding off with such gracious precision that for that single moment, I contemplate becoming a turtle for the rest of my life.

 

And then we go see the jackfish. Hundreds and hundreds of them in a school that attempted to take on the form of a huge aquatic animal, should a fishyvore happen to careen by. I feel smug at seeing through their little facade and have several episodes of NATIONAL Geographic to thank.

 

And then some clownfish, zebrafish, cowfish, leopardfish, parrotfish, attach-name-of-mammal-here-fish and a whole freaking universe of sea life that I’ve never before seen in my life. We see a couple more turtles, some manta rays, a red cucumber like device with suction cups for legs that attached themselves to you… it was unbelievable. I wanted to spend the rest of my life watching those guys and almost immediately I regret having said to Mickey Knox (yes, Mickey Knox, but Mickey Knox Peace Corp not Mickey Knox Mallory Knox, sadly and fortunately) just yesterday that fish had no personality and therefore were ok to be consumed. As opposed to pigs and cattle, is what we were on about.

 

At this point Dirk signals his intent to swoop off, for sure content with the sum of charity work he’s done and I pluckily signal back that I’m staying. Those monster sea cauliflowers don’t scare me now, ha. And I glide and swoop and feel very adventurous indeed, with my fins all brisk and manipulable. It began raining a few minutes after, but everything was as calm as could be below the surface. For one serious moment, the sea and everything within it, belonged solely to me.

 

Of course I had to get about flapping back to shore, as my bored companions were in a dear rush to get back to Coron town for the street dancing. I drip and trod over to them, but was met by a smiling Dirk who asks me if I wanted to go check out the reefs on the other side of the island. What’s there, I boldly ask.

Black tip reef sharks, he retorts.

 

Okay. Giant clams are one thing, but poking about in shark territory is another.

Of course he, along with many other divers come to think of it, have already assured me of how evasive sharks actually are, and how the odds are strongly against circumstances that they would actually attack. And, there has never been a shark attack in the Philippines, from what I know. And this sort of bloody spectacle is just practically unheard of in these parts, really.

 

BUT. And I have Steven Spielberg to thank for this, so thank you Mr. Spielberg for almost single handedly ruining what may have been a great shark-human relationship for me with your terrible, terrible movie. STILL.

 

I could honestly get into that with a group, with just Mr. Fahrenbach even, but as a single, snorkeled entity flapping about in the water? Nope not na na. Not now, at least. Perhaps next year when I’m a little bolder and cooler, but not now.

 

Besides, there’s a street dance to get to.

 

And after that a Ms. Gay competition—literally, a beauty pageant for gays, which around these parts could get PREEEETY interesting. Almost as interesting as life below, I’d daresay.

.....what do you mean, what ABOUT the barracudas?

 

Posted by: Hoon at 08:00 | link | comments (8)