when an anti-establishment hippie is established...

Looped around the inner makati streets again to scavenge for food today.

Oohnnnooo not another lunch epic, you shriek.

Yes, another lunch inspired attempt at philosophical musing, but allay your fears, it won’t be too epic-ky this time.

I was in some mighty mood for cow tongue in mushroom sauce all morning. Absolutely could not get creamy tongue-to-tongue sensation off my mind, but obviously and unfortunately none of my favorite food boxes on wheels would (COULD) ever have that on their strictly plebian menu.

 (ho yes, hacked-off cow tongue is right up there with shorn unicorn shreds and eye of Pheasant Alexander.)

Cut through a pebbled parking lot and emerged upon a street I’ve never before seen—Footnote:

I’ve decided to very maturely accept rank as makati bird and quite proudly have now begun to form a working map of makati in my head.

I could now get to and from several different points without pausing mid-step to blink uncomprehendingly at street signs---and with this newfound confidence I carry the right to digress every so often from familiar paths.

 

 So today I nonchalantly cut across an unknown parking lot. And saw----- and saw---

 

  A PLANET FULL OF MARXIST MUNG BEANS IN MOCCASSINS!!!!!

 

…….

 

….

 

..

 

.

 

 Actually, no, sorry, I didn’t.

I didn’t see anything extraordinary—just a couple of rolling food boxes (no cow tongue!!) , a line of people lazily perched on the sidewalk and a sweaty schoolyard of little boys playing basketball—or rather running around with a ball for there was no net-- right across.

So what compelled me to extricate something profound about it?

I don’t know really---

Because there’s nothing else to write, I guess.

 

Well, that’ s about it.

Bye now.

 

Posted by: Hoon at 06:31 | link | comments (1)

This Sunday, I am so proud, I was officially able to make My Day. (I made it…Myyyy Daaaaaaayyyy….! Sung to the tune of Mr. Sinatra’s ‘My Way’.)

 

1)      Read Malcolm Gladwell’s “Blink” in the outdoors and attempted the art of ‘thin-slicing’ or the power of thinking without thinking by deciding whether I really wanted to eat that left-over burrito for lunch. In a fraction of a second, I decide I did. (Yea!)

2)       Ate the burrito. And a half.

 

3)      Listened to such fun 80’s staples as:

 

When I'm in the shower I'm afraid to wash my hair
Cause I might open my eyes and find someone standing there
People say I'm crazy, just a little touched
But maybe showers remind me of Psycho too much
That's why...

I always feel like somebody's watching me
Who's playing tricks on me
I always feel like somebody's watching me
Tell me it can't be

 

Don’t tell me you guys have forgotten how it goes! Remember? Michael Jackson sings the chorus??

 

Incidentally I was in the shower while this song came on. Got paranoid for a moment there.

 

4)      Learned how to make Sukiyaki. My Tita Rose put the stove right in the middle of the table and there we were cracking eggs on our bowls and adding sake and trying to grasp the slimy noodles with our chopsticks. All the while sweating and slurping Japanese-style.

 

5)      Gave Coco—who really is starting to resemble an obese sheep as of writing—a bath. I decide to take it a step further by grooming her—earwax expulsion, claw extraction, the works. Coco ends up with a bloody toenail on her left paw (c/o Tita Rose) and bald legs.

 

6)      All the beef and noodles finally sank in and felt bloated. Went jogging towards the Manila Bay sunset, and yodeled along to Alanis Morissete on mp3. Developed stomach cramps (whether the beef or the yodeling caused it is still unverified) by the 2 kilometer stretch and had to grudgingly walk home. (Still yodeling, mind you.)

 

7)      Painted. See picture attached for reference.

 

8)      Saw a classic royal rumble live in the coliseum near our house. Except this wasn’t wrestling. It was two of our Philippine Basketball Association teams, Ginebra and San Miguel playing against each other. And a match between Ginebra and San Miguel—for the purpose of clarity— is the Pinoy equivalent to…the FIFA world cup championship. Never mind that Ginebra and San Miguel is, in all actuality, just one and the same. (See that bottle of gin bulag beside you for reference. If you don’t have one, run to nearest drinking session on your street) So where root of all this vicious rivalry stems from, I’m not too sure. Maybe because Ginebra is more known for gin and San Miguel’s more associated with beer, and it’s really a matter of gin shooters vs. brew quaffers? Anyway, San Miguel was confident with a 20 point lead for most of the game, but in a shocking twist of events, Ginebra caught up with them in the 4^th quarter— pinnacled by a dramatic buzzer beater—and effected an all-too crucial overtime play. The audience, by this time, was tearing out their hair and hanging themselves from the scaffoldings. The game ended with a Beermen victory and a fountain of mineral bottles (no beer bottles, what a shame) hurled on the courts and at fans form the opposing teams. No casualties, so…it was fun.

 

9)      Capped the night with fried bangus (milkfish), grilled tuna and a pirated copy of The Simpsons’ entire seventh season.

 

Sundays could not get any better than this.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted by: Hoon at 06:29 | link | comments

poplocks 1

Ruel: hey woman

karla: u on right now?

Ruel: si

karla: this messenger thing is actually sorta creepy if you thnk about it

Ruel: why

karla: i mean you're supposed to be thousands of kilometers away

Ruel: hahah

karla: and here u are just very casually popping up on my window---

Ruel: hahahah

I know what you mean

karla: i sorta wish we could go back to the day of smoke signals u know

that would be even be cooler

Ruel: If I popped up on your TV or something then I'd worry

karla: haHA

or in the microwave

Ruel: smoke signals are useless at this distance

karla: well yeaaaa

Ruel: even pigeons would die

karla: hmmm. how about the good ol' post then

Ruel: snail mail?

karla: ye.

Ruel: what do you use AIM, MSN messenger or what

karla: but of course no ones really got time to sit down and write long heartfelt letters at leisure anymore

everybody just needs to type type type maniacally

Ruel: yeah why bother

when i can interact immediately

and get feedback

karla: hmmmmmyeeewwwelll,, i guess im really just an old fashioned lady at heart

Ruel: instead of letters where i imagine having a conversation

ok ok I'll send you a pigeon

or a bottle

karla: a BottLE!!!!!

yeaaa!!!!\

Ruel: yeah I'll put it in the sea

and hope for the best

karla: and hope the waves somehow lob it towards the good ol philippine islaaaands

Ruel: next thing I know some chick in africa is madly inlove with me

karla: haaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Ruel: geez i hope so

karla: now that wouldn't be so bad ...

as opposed to some guy in yemen

Ruel: yeah I like ebony

karla: ...is there even a sea in yemen??

Ruel: seriously I like women of all types

i dunno

karla: and where IS yemen come to think of it

Ruel: hang on

karla: oooh sorry

you've moved to another topic

women of ALL types u say????

Ruel: it's close to Djibouti

karla: okaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.

that helps ru

Ruel: south of saudi arabia

ji -booty ---get it?!

hahah

karla: ugggggh

Ruel: that one went right over your head

karla: purposefully

Posted by: Hoon at 03:21 | link | comments

Brake !!!

 

Joel, the guy who suckers rich companies into paying thousands of dollars to advertise on our newspaper, came to work end of August looking noticeably dapper. There was something unfamiliar yet intriguing about the way a belt had been found its way onto his waist.

“I’ve embarked on a new image in accordance to my latest quest---to reel in the younger, hipper crowd.” He announced.

As if his three-month-equivalent-to-my-pitiful-salary commissions weren’t enough, he dabbles in all sorts of supplementary income devices---his most recent one involves selling some sort of get-off-your-ass-and–be-a-millionaire-like-me—the-millionaire-who-wrote-this-book book to clients. And apparently for this, he’s decided on the image-conscious as prey.

I don’t fully get the product-market connection but I happily bombard him with vogue-ish, youth-enhancing tips anyway. “Buy shirts that are at least five sizes smaller,” I say importantly. (Everyone knows that for males, the nonchalant chest-hugging, upper-arm skimming-look is the way to go.)

“When putting gel in your hair, muss it up in such a way to connote that you just woke up, but you’re too rich—or too cool—to care. “ I add.

Joel ruminates but does not oblige. “I’m going more for proactive and professional hip,” he says.

About a week after, he noticeably starts losing weight. The compulsory male paunch has trimmed down to a confident tummy---compliments of his new all-protein, high-energy bars.  Half in the morning for breakfast and the other half for lunch. We spend many productive hours discussing the gains of alternating such bars for meals. No rice for this budding example in “Professional and Proactive,” and oil is a force to reckon with.

This morning— two months and many appreciative nods and citations into his image program later— Joel comes into the office early, which is not atypical of him. (What is, though, is that I was there before him. More on my own pot of achievements later.)

I thought it was strange that rather than accosting me with the usual random bit of real estate trivia/ greeting/invite/ update on his choice of protein bar, our resident trendster quietly heads instead into the hardly-used conference room.

I catch a glimpse of him on my way to forage for food in the kitchen.

Hunched over a big bag of Mc Donalds, Joel was just in the process of violently masticating what suspiciously looked like a giant hamburger, soda and fries in tow.

“AHA!” I cry accusingly.

Ever unflappable, he shrugs-- “I allow myself two breakdowns in a month”—he snaps and resumes chewing.

And this true-to-life tale thus comprises my bread of life this morning. ---or banana, since all that I was able to forage from the refrigerator was a slightly decomposing piece of this fruit.

 

 

 

Posted by: Hoon at 03:03 | link | comments