radio

When I was younger, when you want to have an easy-listening experience, you could turn your radio to FM frequency, and choose from those decent English-speaking dj’s. Now, almost all dj’s in the FM stations are Tagalog-speaking s.o.b.’s. And worse, they talk like gays, using the words “bongga” or “grabe”, every fuckin’ minute. And their names are funny, like “Nicole Yala” or “Kristin Dera”, or “Krischu Pot”, and other funny names they invented to amuse us.

The other day, while I was in the bus on my way to work, the driver was listening to this bitch, Nicole-yagbols-or-something. And this whore, who calls herself a dj, was telling a story about a girl who is “mahinhin” and it turned out that the girl is “mahinhindutin”, according to her. The bitch kept on repeating the word “mahinhindutin” in the national radio, during the early hours of the day, followed by her annoying laughter. She must have said the word seven (7) or ten (10) times, for all the children and minors to hear. The KBP or the NTC, or the government agency which monitors these assholes, must be sleeping on their job. This bitch should be shot down. Funny thing is-- after a while she admitted that she does not understand the word “mahinhindutin”. That it sounds ok, that’s why she kept on repeating the same. Eh, talaga palang HINDOT!

I requested the driver to change the station and search for other decent dj’s, and his options were: Rostum Bungero, Faizal Salero, Marichu Pablo, and Rajin Dutero. Nice. Very nice.

card

Last Friday, I received a birthday card from my sister who resides in San Francisco, USA. I’m sure it will be the only birthday card I would receive this year, hehehehe (in the style and tradition of Paulie Gualtieri).. She must have mailed the card early, my birthday this year will be this coming Wednesday. My sister belongs to those people who do not abandon the snail mail scheme. My mother and her still exchanging letters through snail mail. I forgot the last time I used the snail mail. E-mail and text messages are more efficient these days.

I was disappointed when I opened the card, there was no $100 in it, hehehehehe.. But I was happy that my sister remembered my birthday. She haven’t forgotten to enclose her picture and that of her latest husband. Maybe, she did it so that I would remember her face. She and her daughter are living there in San Francisco for more than 15 years now.

Most likely, I would celebrate my birthday drinking beer, after working hours. Just like last year, I would be there in my favorite corner in Jimmy’s bar, and let those who remember come and have a bottle or two, and share countless war stories, cosa nostra or otherwise. Capisce?

movies

I saw “The Queen” last night. As usual in DVD. I got interested on it when I read De Quiros mentioned the same in his column. I love De Quiros’ style of writing.

The 90-minute movie was centered on the effect of Princess Di’s death on the royal family. In fact, the last 70 minutes of it was all about Diana’s death. It appeared that the British people got angry with the Queen when the royal family seemed ignoring the death of the princess. At first, the Queen did not want to have a public funeral for the princess, she kept insisting that Diana is no longer part of the royal family.

It is also shown in the movie how Tony Blair properly handled the delicate event. Later, the Queen was convinced, by Blair and the public, that Princess Di should be given the proper attention fit for a member of royal family.


I also saw “There will be blood”. My friend Atty. Jorge is right, Lewis is very entertaining to watch. He is another Pacino in that movie.

rain in May

Heavy rains. In the first week of May. Can you believe that?

I woke up this morning and when I looked at my blue-lighted digital alarm clock, it was already 10:30 am. I was late, again, for work. The damn cellphone alarm did not work. Or I never heard it when it went off. I must be too drunk to wake up.

My phone told me that I was wanted in the office by the Boss. He wanted me to draft a simple business letter, which I did the minute I sat in my PC.

We had 3 liters of Red Horse beer last night. Celebrating the rains in the first seven days of May. Someone’s prayers must be heard by the raingods. Ahh.. I love the fuckin’ rain. Or I love to fuck when it rains outside. That’s more like it.

Red Horse because it is more manly. And because it is the only drink I can afford to buy these days. Too broke to buy San Mig Light or Cerveza Negra. Too broke to visit Pareng Jimmy in his bar.

But, truth is—we started to drink Chivas Regal with Coke last night. My kumareng E.A. gave it to me last Monday morning, courtesy of her kind husband who works in the Iraq war zone. I have only 2 shots of that shit, and my delicate-smooth-Camay face turned red and I felt that my whole body was burning. Damn hot. Having taken 2 shots only and I was dead drunk. So, I thought we need to wash it down with poor man’s beer. Luckily, the nearest store owned by a stinky old Vietnamese woman was still open. The half-full bottle of Chivas was placed in the open shelf. In all likelihood, Joan’s pa would gulp the whole damn thing the next day. Who cares?

That’s the story of the rain. In May. Time to light this Dunhill Frost outside. Hand me the damn lighter, cabron.