Yuppielosophy

Have jacket, will go places

2010-01-12T21:20:00.000-08:00

I live the simple life. I lounge around all day and only get up when my matey, a silly and clumsy girl I share an office table with, needs me. As long as I'm left to my own devices, I'm good.

Today, though, something happened. I was walking around the office with my matey, doing our usual errands, when we got called in by one of our supers. Lazy bum that I was, I tuned out of the conversation. After all, the girl I was with could handle the conversation baggage just fine.

Yada, yada, yada, Japan. Yada, yada, yada, 6 weeks. Yada, yada, yada, can I bring you with me. And more yada, yada, yada.

Wait, what?

At that point, everyone got excited. Above the ruckus that ensued, I mentally pieced the fragments of the conversation. "I'm going to Japan for six weeks. Can I bring her with me?"

Me. Getting invited to go to Japan for six weeks. In the winter season. Snow. Japan.

I waited for my mate's reaction. Though we've only been together for a couple of months, I knew that she had this great passion for anything Japanese. She reeks of Japan love. I mean, I spend my time in useful lassitude. She spends her time in front of a computer screen, sifting through anything that has a connection with Japan - anime, bento boxes, magazines, manga, sushi maker, tofu strains. She even sneaks a peek at those hentai stuff when she gets the chance. No wonder her computer is so slow these days. Probably some illicit virus found its way to her PC's drives or something.

Anyhow, I was surprised to see her so cool about it. She was even smiling and being helpful and all that. Prolly hiding all that disappointment inside. Beh.

The trip is not until next week, so we went back to our table. She was pretty silent. I wondered what was going through that weird little head of hers. Of course, she'd be thinking of all the Japan stuff she would be asking for as omiyage. Personally, I know she'd be wanting some of these stuff. I just hope she has enough hidden moolah to get them all.

Gurren Lagann's Viral figurine. Rawr.

Oodles, piles and columns of these...

...And even more oodles, piles and columns of these..

Something traditional like this kimono...

An inkstone would be nice too...

Still, it's not as if she's picky. I can bring back a stone and she would suck out all the Japan essence from the darned thing in no time.

Too bad, matey. You'd like it there, I know. I'm sure you'll go there someday and drool all you want. You may be the 'most promising' employee and all that, but this time, it's me they need there. It's winter, and everybody'll need a jacket or two. Don't worry, I'll give Japan your hellos.

Sincerely, your jacket

New Year's Eve Lunacy

2010-01-06T21:55:00.001-08:00

While Parisians kiss under the Eiffel tower and New Yorkers count down at Central Park, Filipinos frenziedly jump at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve. Why, you ask? Because you will actually grow taller if you welcome the New Year mimicking the locomotive faculties of a toad being chased by a python. At least that’s what my grandma says. While growing up, I religiously jumped every year. Yes, I’m taller than the average Filipina, so does this mean it worked? Probably. But I’m sticking to genetics to explain my height.

Popular Filipino wisdom dictates you to do all the things that you’d want to be doing in the coming year on the stroke of midnight. This explains a lot of things, like why a lot of us go retro (polka dots, anyone?) or why only very few serve chicken for the noche buena feast (who’d want to be pecking on dirt for a living?).

When I was a kid, this scared me a lot. I mean, what if I had a sudden urge to, erm, move, and midnight found me grunting in the loo? That would mean the coming year had a lot of sh*t in store for me. Oh, no! A year-long case of diarrhea is too much. I was very careful with what I was thinking and doing during midnight.

I remember my aunt flouncing in front of me a few years ago, wearing a horrid white dress with polka dots. She told me she’d be lucky in the coming year, as the red dots signified lots of coins. Fate really loves symbolism, huh? I beg to differ auntie. They look more like bloody holes in my bank account. No, thank you. However, if she really believed in these things, my aunt should wear a dress with dollar bills printed all over it, presumably with Ben F.’s face in them. That would ensure fate cannot get you wrong. You want $100 dollar bills, baby.

My friend prepares a huge feast on New Year’s Eve, with a whole roasted pig (lechon), pans of custard (leche flan), cakes, chocolate coins, fruits, and so many other sumptuous dishes, all for… five people. Pigs apparently symbolize progress because they push forward, rooting themselves in the ground before moving. At exactly midnight, my friend and his family scatter coins all over their house, believing financial blessings will rain upon them. When I visited later that day, I quietly went around the house pocketing the coins. Yep, a very lucky start for me.

Prices of round fruits and anything with a remotely similar coloring to gold disappear fast during the holidays. Stores jack up the prices sky high, but everyone bites anyway. This association of round, circular edibles is not peculiar to Filipinos. Spanish revelers eat 12 grapes at the stroke of midnight. Italians consume round, flat lentils, while North Americans have black-eyed peas (no, they don’t wish for shiners in the year ahead).

I don’t believe in any of this baloney. After all, I’m an educated 5^th generation Martian hell-bent on proving that fate is what you make of it.

If all of these are true, then the poor Filipino would be a myth. And Juan Tamad can be as lazy as he can get…if he stuffs himself full of roast pork and lentils while the clock strikes 12 on New Year’s Eve.

Christmas Humbugs #48: Secret Santa

2009-11-25T17:21:00.000-08:00

I utterly fail to understand why certain people like this activity so much to the point that they cannot have a complete Christmas experience without it. Recently, some imposing pricks at work made it compulsory for us to join this year’s Secret Santa. For those of you who don’t know what Secret Santa is, it’s the Christmas custom we so fondly refer to as Kris Kringle or Manito-Manita.

As a kid, I used to enjoy this activity a lot. I remember this to be that one activity I always looked forward to in the Christmas parties I participated in. There’s always this thrill to be had in opening presents whether they’re crappy or not. But then again, there are lots of thrills to be had when you’re 11 and below. Times have certainly changed. Over the years, I’ve developed a misanthropic view of this custom, which seems so sad at first but is actually very liberating and rewarding.

For the record, I still enjoy this activity but only if it was in the company of people who actually knew what I was into (that’s what Facebook is for, damn it!) and vice versa. Other than that, I do not participate in this activity at all. It’s not that I don’t like giving stuff away. I’ve actually become more generous over the years. It’s just that this activity is an exercise at poor decision-making considering you’ve made financial investments in it.

Before I proceed, you might argue that “it’s the thought that counts.” On situations outside Secret Santa, I do believe in that phrase. Outside Secret Santa, nobody is compelled to give you anything. If they do give you something, then it must be out of genuine generosity and I find returning the favor much more enjoyable that way. But in Secret effing Santa, participation obligates you to spend in order to receive a gift, thus the dynamic changes and now, we can proceed to why I think this is an exercise at poor decision-making.

Here’s the thing. By virtue of the fact that I am obligated to spend money in order to get something, I now have the right to at least expect my money’s worth. Let’s say for our hypothetical Secret Santa, the price for the gifts should be P200.00. Let’s also consider that the typical circumstance in this activity usually places you in a group of people the majority of which have no clue with regards to the things you like. To be a little bit optimistic, let’s also consider that in that group, there might be a couple of people who do know what you’re into, or that there are some people who would go the extra mile to get you what you want at P200.00.

Essentially, you’re gambling here. What happens is you are spending P200.00 in order to receive a gift which you’re not guaranteed to like. In the event that you do get something that you like, it’s a good gamble; you get your money’s worth. But what if you get something you didn’t like? It’s a bad trade off and a total waste of that P200.00.

Your investment of P200.00 to get your money’s worth lies in the hands of whoever becomes your Secret Santa. If by some good fate your Secret Santa is the resident all-around nice person, then good for you. I’m sure you’ll enjoy those DVD’s he/she went through the trouble of compiling and burning for you. If by some common upshot your Secret Santa is the average Joe who you just smile to but never really talk to at work, then I hope you’ll enjoy the impersonal and exceedingly neutral presents you’re about to receive. Overall, not a good gamble since you already have all the face towels you would need. But the possibilities don’t end there. What if by some misfortune, your Secret Santa is that creep who likes to fool around too much? For your P200.00, you get pink panties! But guess what? You’re a man with huge testicles! How are you supposed to tuck your man-balls in an article of clothing not designed for protruding baby-makers? Again, not a good gamble.

Of course, if you’re among those who don’t mind throwing away money, then go ahead. This activity is definitely for you. Just don’t go around whining why, for some unexplainable reason, you’re always short on cash. But for those who prefer putting every single peso to good use, then we’re better off spending that P200.00 to buy for ourselves exactly what we want for that value.

So, unless it’s in the company of good friends, skip Secret Santa this year and for all the years to come. It’s a gamble not worth taking.

My 2010 Candidates

2009-11-20T00:10:00.000-08:00

Its already election period and presidentiables and non-presidentiables are already busy campaigning. Though I don't think I would be able to vote come May, I do have my preferred candidates. I'm still undecided though. Here they are:

For President:

1. Manny Villar - Sipag at Tiyaga. Though C-5 extension controversy hurts his resume.
2. Gilbert Teodoro - Brilliant mind. Seems very ambitious to me by not opting to run for lower positions first.

No Noynoy? I think he's just taking advantage of the people's sympathy following his mother's death.

For Vice - President:

1. Mar Roxas - Had he pursued the Presidency, he would have my vote.
2. Loren Legarda - My ideal Pres-VP tandem would be Mar and Loren respectively. Now I'm torn between the two of them.

Feel free to react.

I Wanna Be a Flight Attendant! (But tiny voice in head says "No")

2009-11-11T16:38:00.000-08:00

So I was watching View From the Top (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0264150/ )starring Gwyneth Paltrow a while back, and I suddenly remembered that I once had this dream of becoming a flight attendant, just because people used to tell me (back when I was thinner - if those times ever existed) that my height was fit for it. I honestly toyed with the idea, especially since traveling is a frustration/guilty pleasure of mine. I thought, only a few jobs could let you work AND play at the same time right? And then reality hit me. I can't be a flight attendant. I just can't. And the tiny voice in my head (yes, my tiny voice is a nagger) told me why.

1. I got motion sickness.

I actually never had motion sickness during flights (probably because I love the thought of riding planes), but I get a bad case of it especially with cab rides in Manila. I don't know why, but there's something with the way those drivers transition from releasing the clutch and stepping on the gas pedal. I know there's a slight chance that those drivers could be pilots by day, but times are tough and they could be working part-time. I don't wanna take that risk.

2. I have poor balance inside moving vehicles.

A simple elevator ride could send me from one corner to the other just by picking up an object on a floor. Whenever I have the urge to pee on a flight, I try to hold it as much as I could until we land (I know, it's bad) 'cause I have this fear of tripping on the floor if I walked down the aisle. As we know, flight attendants walk a lot the whole time, and a LULIT (native term for a "wuss") cabin crew won't help.

3. My huge hips are not conducive especially for local planes with smaller spaces.

Believe me, I've gone through so much pain and embarrassing moments with these hips. I literally get bruises because of constant bumping on table edges, chairs, and the like. My patients suddenly rouse from their deep sleep just because my hips hit on something solid no matter how consciously I move. Worse, I get stuck on tiny chairs (and this happens a lot), and it takes some squirming (and a few seconds of utter humiliation) before I could free myself from it. Sure, it's perfect for childbearing and all, but it just doesn't fit the job requirement. Unless, of course, I go international. Bigger aisles, less accidents.

And the list goes on.

After giving it much thought (and feeding myself with negativity), I decided to stick to my profession for now. It's a far cry from the glamorous lifestyle of flight attendants (they never had to monitor poop and vomit for 8 hours), but I'd like to think this is where I truly belong.

Monkey Business

2009-10-30T06:55:00.000-07:00

Monkeys and apes fascinate me. I've always wanted one (a macaque anyway) as a pet when I was a kid, but my mom - who got a morbid disgust against them after she was served a bowl of monkey stew at a local fiesta - won't have it in the house. It didn't help matters when I got bitten in the head by a neighbor's macaque that I've been trying to get to de-lice my head (it got frustrated because it can't find any).

I remember staying behind in my school after classes so that me and my school buddies can play with the monkeys on display outside the library. We would buy fried bananas - piping hot and just out from the frying pan - and throw them at the monkeys inside the cages - who them would fight tooth and nail to get the treat - even if it burns them, which we would laugh at such glee.

During fiestas, travelling carnies with pet monkeys were always the big attraction that draw my attention. Carnies would dress them up with tiny human clothes, giving the animals an eerie resemblance to some folks that I've met (debatable, but well...).

Even some of my favorite movies have monkeys in them - Project X, Planet of the Apes, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (monkey brains for dessert, anyone?), to name a few. Futurama, the now-cancelled cartoon that I watch all the time, has a genius monkey named Gunther - a smart monkey who can debate with Professor Farnsworth topics that are only usually given during debate tournaments.

Demonic Language

2009-10-29T23:57:00.000-07:00

Seen the movie Constantine? Its not that groundbreaking a movie or anything but it is still good for killing time. That's why I got a DVD copy and watched it again. Beware of the subtitle though.

Minutes into the film, a lady is possessed by a demon soldier and nobody is more qualified for the job of helping the poor victim than our hero Constantine, John Constantine. It's his habit to introduce himself first before doing what he does best - sending demons back to hell!

In the scene where he introduced himself to the demon possessing the poor lady victim, the dialogue went this way:

Constantine: This is Constantine... John Constantine, asshole.
Possessed lady: Papatayin natin sila.

Yep. It's in Filipino. Unlike the time when I watched the movie in the big screen during its theatrical run, that line did not surprise me as I saw it coming. But what caught my attention was the subtitle when the possessed lady uttered that line. I hope its not the official subtitle. Here's a screen capture:

Apparently I am fluent in demonic language. T_T

And then, there was Chuck

2009-10-25T18:58:00.000-07:00

"When Chuck Norris does push ups, he does not push himself up. He pushes the world down."

Now this is the kind of cheesiness you'd want to roll around in. You can sit back, smile and be entertained by the sheer bravura of testosterone-induced vanity. Or you can turn up your nose, walk away and PRETEND you didn't find that declaration totally awesome.

I first encountered this declaration during one of my random surfs in Facebook's gigantic repository of quizzes and whatnots (as if I joined Facebook for its social networking potential). Now, FB's quiz collection range from those that are a lame alternative to costly sessions with the shrink, personality quizzes that you can rig, geeky Star Wars trivia that only you, a true geek, would know (I know, therefore I am Yoda) and the "How long would you stand in a fight against Chuck Norris" quiz - hands down, the most entertaining of them all.

It's the best there is because:

a. It's all about trying to take down Chuck Norris and his ruddy beard (note, trying, because you don't get to beat Chuck Norris. Nobody does.)
b. In the futile attempt to beat the MAN, you can get one of the weapons to beat all other weapons - the light saber (though it still won't work against Chuck bloody Norris)
c. Once you see it, you have no choice but to take the quiz. It's that awesome.
d. Chuck Norris WILL roundhouse you each and every time, and:
e. You won't even know why you were in a fight with him in the first place.

In my fight against Chuck, I think I chose a full body armor, speed as my skill and my hands as my weapons (light saber! You should have chosen the light saber!). Which is why I ended up as Chuck Norris fodder in a span of 1 second. Heck, that's not even enough to cover the definition of span.

As I was very much entertained, I did a little research and I found out that Chuck Norris has inspired a phenomena of awesome and epic facts (about himself, of course) such is his awesome-ness and epic-ness.

Awesome:
"If you were to know Chuck Norris' true name, your mind would collapse upon itself. "

Awesome-r:
"In ancient China there is a legend that one day a child will be born from a dragon and vanquish evil from the land. That man is not Chuck Norris, because Chuck killed that man. "

Awesome-est:
"Contrary to popular belief, Chuck Norris is unable to send his roundhouse kicks across the fabric of time, however he IS able to perform this action across parallel dimensions and once, just for fun, roundhouse kicked his own ass. "

And he's not even the greatest martial artist there is. But don't tell him I said that.

For more Chuck Norris definitions, go here. For Chuck facts, go here.For those who want to test their mettle against Chuck Norris, type "How long will you last in a fight against Chuck Norris" in your searchboxes. Chuck is waiting.

Go ahead. You know you want to.

I Need A Makeup Guru!

2009-10-20T07:06:00.000-07:00

Youtube has been my constant companion in times of social isolation and utter boredom. One day, I noticed a trend within this popular site. Several channels belonged to makeup gurus or people (yes, both females and biologically males) who do makeup tutorials on different looks. Be it natural, everyday looks, glamourous and dramatic looks, and yes - drag queen looks, these gurus have covered it all. I have two particular favorites among the gurus though.

Michelle Phan

and Xteeener

For now though, the spotlight goes to Xteeener. But I'll be featuring more of Michelle Phan on my next post.

I've been an avid follower of Xteeener, a famous makeup guru on Youtube. Unlike other gurus who capitalize on their online fame to promote products which they apparently "Don't get paid for", Xteeener is different. (I have nothing against other gurus who get paid for promotional stuff, as long as they tell the viewers that they get a little compensation for mentioning products).

After more than a year of posting makeup tutorials over Youtube, she still remains as simple and down-to-earth as she was when she started.

Her makeup tutorials are always easy to follow. Best of all, most of her videos are for everyday-looks, and beginners could easily pull it off.

Lately, Xteener's tutorials have gone from neutral to dramatic. One of my personal faves is her Egyptian Queen Look, which is totally appropriate for Halloween parties. Unfortunately, I won't be going to any, so all I could do is drool in its awesomeness and share it with you readers.

Here's the video:

For more of her videos, visit Xteeener's Youtube Channel

Here's Michelle Phan's Youtube Channel

*all photos are from their respective Facebook accounts.

You Break My Record, Now I Break You!

2009-10-04T07:09:00.000-07:00

The Intro

I love watching good movies. A great deal of my free time has been spent hunting down copies of critically acclaimed films like The Godfather, The Silence of the Lambs, The Dark Knight and others.

During one of my scouring sessions, I came across JCVD in a Time magazine article. I discovered that it stood for Jean-Claude Van Damme and was honestly stunned by how Time magazine heralded his performance as the second best of that year (after Heath Ledger’s portrayal of The Joker). I mean we are talking about The Muscles from Brussels himself, deliverer of accent-heavy lines and mediocre acting.

I did a bit of research and found out that Time was on the record for stating that Van Damme “deserves not a black belt, but an Oscar.” Also, Van Damme was nominated for Best Actor by the Toronto Film Critics Association Awards as well as the Chlotrudis Awards. A couple more looks around the interwebz and I discovered Rotten Tomatoes gave JCVD a Certified Fresh rating (knowing RT, this is certainly no small feat). I guess that last bit did it for me. I’m a sucker for highly-praised films, so I decided to look for a copy.

While waiting for my copy to arrive, I decided to watch another Van Damme movie in order to remind myself why I have such a poor opinion of his acting. Little did I know I was in for one of the most hilarious walks I’ve had down memory lane.

The Movie

I was looking through Van Damme’s filmography and saw Bloodsport. Of all the Van Damme movies I’ve seen so far, this one is probably my favorite. The thing is, aside from loving good movies, I also have a special place in my heart for bad movies with cult followings. Bloodsport fits the latter category too perfectly. Besides, I also wanted to watch it for the lulz.

I can’t remember how many times I’ve seen this film, but since I was 8, I’ve seen it on Betamax, VHS, LD, VCD, DVD and probably Blu-ray and UMD in the future. If you think I’ve wasted a lot of time for just one movie, then I should also tell you that I’ve seen this movie on cable a couple of times too. There’s this friend of mine who used to text me when Bloodsport was on Cinemax and we’d watch it separately, meet up later on and celebrate the sheer campiness of the film by doing splits in the same manner Van Damme does in the movie.

The story is allegedly based on real events in the life of Frank Dux. But everybody else thinks it’s bullshit, and so do I, so there’s not much point in talking about the real Dux here.

The Characters

Frank Dux, played by Van Damme, is a Koga Yamabushi Ninjitsu (not stated in the film, but I’m a geek) expert wanting to honor his master by winning the Kumite, an underground, no holds barred martial arts tournament his master won many years ago.

Ray Jackson, played by Donald Gibb is the Donkey to Frank Dux’s Shrek. Whether the studio consciously decided to add this character for comic relief is still unknown to me. Van Damme’s Belgian accent while playing an American character provides enough comic relief that lasts the entire film. Oh yeah, Ray is also a Kumite fighter.

Janice Kent, played by Leah Ayres, is our hero’s love interest. She’s a journalist who wants to get a scoop on the Kumite. Has nice legs too.

Chong Li is the main antagonist of the story. He is played by Bolo Yeung, who in my opinion, makes the best martial arts villain ever. He is the reigning Kumite champion and seems to enjoy breaking people in half and looking absolutely evil while doing so.

Agents Rawlins and Helmer, played by Forest Whitaker and Norman Burton respectively, are two agents sent by the US Military to bring Frankie boy back. Did I mention he went AWOL from the US Military?

The rest are a bunch of scrubs whose roles read “get beat up.” Being a typical Filipino, I should mention that there is one character here played by our kababayan. Sadiq Hossein, an Arabian Kumite fighter, is played by Bernard Mariano, a Filipino actor. I guess with the number of Filipinos working in the Middle East, people now have an excuse to start confusing them for actual Arabs.

The Story

The story begins with Frank Dux going AWOL from the military to compete at the Kumite in Hong Kong. His tough-as-nails commanding officer is not too pleased with this and sends agents Rawlins and Helmer after him. Apparently, the US government has spent lots of money on old Frankie boy here and they couldn’t risk him getting hurt, so it’s up to our bumbling agents to bring him back via incapacitating him with 50,000-volt tasers. How the writers missed the irony is beyond me. And how the US Military couldn’t alert airport security to not allow Dux from leaving US soil is as mysterious as the mysteries of the universe itself.

Anyway, Frankie boy visits his Shidoshi, Senzo Tanaka, before leaving for Hong Kong. Here we see (apart from Van Damme’s apparent difficulty in acting) a series of flashbacks on how he was trained to float like a butterfly and sting like a Tomahawk cruise missile. Parts of the flashback show a teenage Frank (Pierre Rafini) in one of the most laughable acting jobs I’ve seen. And by laughable, I mean I had to pause the movie, get to the hospital, get the nice man with the stethoscope to take out my funny bone, find out that funny bone is actually a pun and has nothing to do with laughing, come back and still find myself laughing at the sheer awkwardness of his performance. You’d get the impression that the kid playing the young Frank didn’t even wanna be in that movie; that his parents just forced him to be there ‘cause they want him to be a big star one day. But anyway, the training montage with Van Damme as adult Frank is one of the most impressive I’ve seen as far as martial arts films go. Here, he does complete splits in what seems to be an omen that says there will be more splits to come (not just in this movie).

Back to the present, he bids farewell to his ill sensei and promised him to bring honor to the Tanaka clan for training him and having treated him like a son. Awwwwww. It’s in serious moments like this that I have to remind myself that Van Damme was a ballerina from 16 to 21 years of age. It’s an amusing but necessary distraction if your intent is to watch Van Damme act and come out of it with intact sensibilities.

Frank arrives in Hong Kong, meets fellow Kumite fighter Ray Jackson and befriends him after beating him in an arcade game. If I was in a martial arts tournament, I’d be wary about befriending other participants since there’s a chance you’d face each other. “No, I can’t hit him…he’s my friend!” There goes your dream of being Kumite champ, chump. They meet Mr. Lin (guide for American participants apparently) and he takes them to the arena where Dux puts his dukes to the use by reducing a brick to smithereens. This gets reigning champ and lord of extinction Chong Li’s attention, which prompts the man-mountain to say the first of his several badass lines: “Very good! But brick not hit back!” Chong Li has an air of chaos and destruction about him. His mere presence is said to make babies cry within a 37.2 kilometer radius. You couldn’t help but start feeling sympathy for Frank. Bolo Yeung is simply good at playing this type of villain. Did I mention that he was 50 years old when this film was made? Yup…badass!

Then we meet reporter Janice Kent who is being coaxed by Sadiq (played by our kababayan…oi, gusto kong bumati kay nanay at tatay at kay ate at kuya…artista na akow!) to join him in his room upstairs for an “interview.” Ah, ladies men. They sure don’t waste time. Frank goes to her rescue by doing a coin trick that seemingly requires a flashback in order to be done properly, making Sadiq look like an idiot thereby hurting our national pride. While all seems well, feminists would probably say Janice went out of the frying pan and into the fire since Frank asked her out to dinner for the following night. And we all know what happens after dinner.

After a scene where Van Damme does more splits, the tournament begins and we are treated to a bevy of fighters coming from various martial arts disciplines. We get to see our main fighters strut their stuff. Ray beats his first opponent, but had to be stupid enough to taunt Chong Li who was quietly watching the matches. Chong Li, however, didn’t beat his opponent. Beating an opponent was too easy…so he broke him instead and also broke the world record for fastest knockout. How much more badass can you get? The first time I saw this guy in a movie (Enter The Dragon), I got the impression that his hobbies include knitting doilies, baking pastries and ripping spinal columns out of people. I heard that he accidentally created the Grand Canyon when he went skydiving but forgot his parachute. Arizona was never the same again. Frank’s match followed afterwards wherein he was pitted against Sadiq, knocking him out by showing him his palm and hurting our national pride for the second time. Damn. Frank beats Chong’s fastest knockout record by the way.

The first day of the tournament ends, Rawlins and Helmer catch up to Frank, he evades them with Ray’s help and goes to dinner with Janice. They had sex (although it’s never shown) and we are treated (whether we like it or not) to a gratuitous display of Van Damme’s butt in the morning after. Belgian Bites were said to be named after those. Either way, I don’t get why they had to show us his butt. Women might enjoy it, but women hardly ever watch martial arts films.

Frank and Ray continue to do well on the second day and we get to see more fight scenes that continue to impress. Ray however, gets broken by Chong in the last match of the day. He gets hospitalized and Frankie boy vows revenge, upsetting Janice, Mr. Lin, the doctor, the nurse and me ‘cause I needed to remind myself again that he was once a wee ballerina. Did I mention that he did a lot of splits again?

On the final day of the Kumite, Rawlins and Helmer are waiting for Frank right outside the arena, and this time they’re ready to use their tasers and are backed by Hong Kong’s finest. Frank, however, stops them with nothing but a gym bag, a trash can lid and shiny leather shoes. He and Chong both reach the finals and in one of the most badass moments in martial arts film history, Chong Li exclaims to Frank: “You break my record. Now I break you, like I break your friend!” This guy really likes breaking stuff…and people too. I bet tanks were modeled after him.

The fight gets off to a good start, but Chong takes out a pill from his sweat-drenched shorts, grinds it into powdery bits with his fingers (badass…normal people can’t even grind anything with their bare hands) and hurls it at our hero’s eyes. Suffice to say, he got lots of cheap shots in on the now visually impaired Frank, Frank channels into his own inner badass, moans for a while, and then starts beating Chong’s ass using repeated jump spinning heel kicks which is also an omen for more jump spinning heel kicks to come in Van Damme’s career. Frank wins the tournament, Janice gets her scoop, the agents bring their man back to the military, and Ray is now fully conscious but still buffoonish.

The Conclusion

First off, Bolo Yeung is a major badass. I now believe steroids are made from his urine.

Second, this movie is Van Damme’s first starring role and is therefore responsible for establishing the Van Damme-isms he likes to use in majority of his films (lots of splits, jump spinning heel kicks, and a Belgian accent for all his American roles).

Third, Belgian Bites were inspired by Van Damme’s ass.

Fourth, while this movie didn’t have much to offer by way of acting, dialogue or plot, its redeeming factor is its fight scenes as well as for having revitalized the concept (since Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon) of showcasing numerous martial arts disciplines in a single martial arts movie. Previous martial arts films usually showcased two disciplines at the most. For these reasons, this movie is a classic in the martial arts film genre and might have influenced things like the Mortal Kombat, Street Fighter and Tekken franchises as well as mixed martial arts.

Fifth, you can already see here that Forest Whitaker has great acting skills. He’s playing a minor role, but he’s doing better than the entire cast. The things he does are very natural and very genuine. I suppose acting skill is inversely proportional to fighting skill in this film.

Lastly, I am now quite eager to see how Van Damme has improved in JCVD. I sincerely enjoy stories of individuals achieving good things. Looking at Bloodsport, it’s kind of hard to imagine him ever getting a Best Actor nomination, but whatever. This guy probably has acting chops that we’ve never seen before due to the kind of roles being given to him…at least I’m hoping so.

I am Stupid!

2009-09-27T17:42:00.000-07:00

Yesterday i went to attend a forum on child pornography held at WMSU. I could have just stayed home but as the title says, I am stupid that's why I decided to attend. There were two speakers - Dr. Bernaddete Madrid, a doctor from PGH, and Atty. Katrina Legarda.

The first topic, by Dr. Madrid, was a so-so for me. It did not interest me at all. The gist of her topic was "sex sells." And given my stupidity and, uhm, pornographic memory I learned some techniques on how to incorporate sex themes into advertisements.

Then came Atty. Legarda. Her topic was about computer crimes. She's not in any way related to Sen. Loren Legarda for those who are interested. And she's tall. She's a very good public speaker BTW, with a sense of humor. Just by standing in front, she can command the attention of the audience. She can convey her messages in a very few words. Her voice is calm and soothing. Overall, not a boring speaker.

Anyway, her time in front was eventful, at least for me. Why? Because my stupidity was affirmed!

Let me walk you through the pieces of evidence.

Evidence 1: My Facebook friends
Atty. Legarda said that if you're adding people you do not know as friends then you're stupid. Alas! I am adding people I do not know as friends for Mafia Wars. I am stupid!

Evidence 2: I want to be good-looking
A common area when it comes to child pornography is that of pedophiles and sexual abuse. She said that, contrary to how news editorial cartoons portray them, pedophiles are not "pangit" but rather good-looking. She showed us pictures of convicted pedophiles and verily, they have quite the face. We must not judge people through only their appearances. She reminded us that many sexual abusers in the country are not "pangit." She even cited some names and all of them are popular. Lesson for me: I must not be good-looking otherwise people will suspect I am a sexual abuser!

Sidenote: Can someone please enlighten me why criminals/bad elements of the society are potrayed with hideous faces, bulging eyes and "pangit" in editorial cartoons?

Evidence 3: I love to text
According to Atty. Legarda texting is as, if not more, dangerous as drugs and drinking. If before we remind people not to drink while driving, now we must remind them not to text and drink while driving. Another lesson for me: I must not learn how to drive so that I can text and drink.

Evidence 4: I am not supporting computer crime bills, anti-pornography bills, and other related laws
At present there are no crimes against computer bullying and computer blackmailing. Many of the women victims of trafficking are from Mindanao. Cagayan de Oro is a known place for pornography. There is an anti-child pornography bill slated for third reading in Congress on September 30. Yet I don't give a damn. I am really stupid.

Evidence 5: This blog
I am blogging about my stupidity. What does that tell you?

edit nov. 20, 2009:

see RA 9775

I'm Gonna Be...A Porn Star!

2009-09-20T09:23:00.000-07:00

My sex drive is high. If you are among the easily offended (otherwise known as humorless pricks), I recommend that you stop reading this article immediately and proceed to 4chan instead. I guarantee you’ll find some spiritual enlightenment there especially in its /b/ forum. Have fun.

As I was saying, my sex drive is high. This is probably due to a wonderful childhood marked with an early exposure to pornography thanks to a virgin uncle who failed miserably at shooing us away from the living room while he watched smut. He should’ve told us some white lie or something, like God would smite juveniles (with lightning bolts no less) for watching a naked black woman play around an indoor fountain.

I was five years old back then. That one right there gave me at least a seven-year head start in sexual curiosity before the average boy even gets his first erection. Seeing that I could not get laid at that age, I decided to learn more about the subject instead. And so began my lifelong fascination for erotica and thus my high sex drive.

I’m at the point in my career where I get bored often due to the unchallenging nature of my work. Recently, I’ve been looking around the internet for another job which hopefully would be more interesting. Amidst reading through job descriptions, a thought occurred to me…I could be a porn star! Not only would this job sate by abnormally high libido level, it could bring in some big bucks and also give me a job I can look forward to everyday!

Of course, like any other job, being a porn star has its job qualifications. Now some of you might not know this, but my fascination for erotica is beyond hormone-driven. It might sound like an attempt to cover up my pornographic indulgences, but my relationship per se with the field of erotica is also academic, scientific and artistic in nature. I’m not here to just watch naked chicks. Having said that, it shouldn’t be a surprise if I actually knew a couple of things about the job qualifications of a porn star:

Porn stars must be 18 or older.
-I’m 17, but if my partner was also 17, that makes us 34 right? So that’s like 16 years of overqualification.

Porn stars will be regularly tested for STD.
-Ha! This is a cinch. I wear condoms even when masturbating. You can’t get any more STD-protected than that.

Porn stars must be physically fit.
-I’ve got a bit of flab on me, but special effects can take care of that. If Peter Jackson can make Legolas look too pretty to be a man, then special effects can also do the same to my flab. Or I can wear a bodysuit like Batista does on every WWE show. Come on. You’re not thinking his body is real right? If Batista is reading this, please don’t beat me up. I’m just kidding, but my jokes are often half-meant.

Porn stars must not have any reservations against working in front of a crew.
-I blush easily when I know everyone’s attention is on me. But that shouldn’t be a problem since I can tell them blood is rushing to my head as a result of arousal.

Male porn stars must be well-endowed.
-This is a misconception. Everybody knows that girls don’t watch porn. So it doesn’t matter if your penis is smaller than your thumb ‘cause nobody’s going to look at it. Guys watch it for the naked chicks. If you’re a guy and you take the time to admire a male porn actor’s penis, then I have bad news for you. Wait, what? What if the company insists that I be well-endowed? Well, I can always star in Japanese porn instead.

Porn stars must have catchy screen names.
-The Foreplay Artist. Yeah! Or maybe Johnny Foreplay. Then my critics, psychologists, and sex therapists would praise me for my awesome foreplay skills but comment that all that intense attention to foreplay could be a compensation for, gasp! Can it be? Premature ejaculation!

Male porn stars need to maintain an erection for the duration of a shoot, which could last for hours.
-With my unhealthy sleeping and eating habits, not to mention that my workout schedule is irregular, I have the endurance of a senior citizen, which is good news anyway ‘cause now, I’m qualified to use Viagra. I heard they’re manufacturing a new variety with the advertising slogan “outlive, outplay, outlast.” If the effect lasts too long for comfort, I can always use tranquilizers.

Porn stars will occasionally be required to perform in uncomfortable positions.
-This is not a problem. My penis is not long enough to enable me to hump in the weirdest positions. The director has no choice but to stick to the uncomplicated positions. Hey, he can’t get rid of me anyway since the actresses would want to work with Johnny Foreplay for his amazing foreplay skills.

Male porn stars need lots self-control. They are expected to be able to gain an erection and/or ejaculate at the director’s cue.
-Technically, the tendency to prematurely ejaculate is prevalent in all men, but some have learned to control it. The way it is controlled varies between men, but it generally involves distracting yourself. Mine is reciting Warcraft III: The Frozen Throne build orders. During a sex scene while I’m humping a hot chick using Kama Sutra position number 429, you would hear me muttering “all Peons gather gold while one Peon is being trained at the Great Hall.” And as the scene gets more and more intense, I continue: “the first Peon to return to the Great Hall with Gold builds an Altar of Storms. After the first Peon from the Great Hall is trained, that Peon proceeds to build a Burrow while a second Peon is trained at the Great Hall.” And so on. And during the climax, I’d go “the Blademaster Windwalks after a fleeing Death Knight, hits him once, then twice with a Level 3 Critical Strike, and the opponent types in good game, and victory is mine”…and scene! Good job Johnny Foreplay! Here’s 20 million dollars. Now go dress up and get ready for the voiceover. And during the voiceover, all my mutterings would be replaced with dirty talk. Wow! The fans should really watch the behind-the-scenes footage of all my videos.

And finally, the last one…according to my source, male porn actors need to be comfortable with intimate physical contact with other males.
-Crap. Is this really necessary? I guess there’s a pile of shit at the other end of every rainbow. But no matter...I used to play basketball in grade school, which for all its worth, is a gay sport. Ask Freud. He’ll have a field day what with all the implied back rubbing, spooning and ball grabbing. So I guess that should give me enough preparation when working in MMF threesomes. As they say in Mixed Martial Arts…it’s not gay as long as you don’t make eye contact.

Satisfied by the new career choice I was about to make, I wrote an email addressed to all the big porn companies in San Fernando Valley, California, the center of the American porn industry for those of you who don’t know. I reviewed my qualifications and was exceedingly pleased with myself. I was about to click the Send button when my cell phone suddenly vibrated. I took a look and it was my girlfriend:

“Don’t even think about it.”

T_T