Some of the most bloggable conversations I had with my friends in our thesis days (2 years ago). Allow me to repost them. (And oh, ngayon lang yata ako magta-Tagalog sa blog ko nang bonggang bongga since I got my .com account.)

DOHNA

Nung Friday night, hindi dapat ako pupunta sa rehearsals nina Dohna and Glenn. Dumaan lang ako sa Aldaba Hall para sana magpaalam na manonood na lang ako ng Close To You, starring John Lloyd Cruz, Bea Alonzo and Sam Milby.

Sa labas pa lang, nakita ko na si Dohna. Sabi ko, “Hoy Dohna, may sasabihin ako sa’yo…”

Sabi naman ni Dohna na nagmamadali nung panahon na yun, “Akyat ka na, dun mo na lang sabihin sa loob. Bilis, marami pang gagawin.”

So sumama naman ako kay Dohna paakyat. Balak ko, dun ko na lang sasabihin na hindi na lang muna ako tutulong sa pagset-up at pagrehearse.

Pero, pero, pero pagpasok namin ng Aldaba Hall, isang superly duper cute na choreographer ang bumulaga saken. So ayun, pinakilala naman kami ni Dohna sa isa’t isa.

Tapos, tinanong ako ni Dohna, “O ano na ang sasabihin mo saken, bilis!”

Damn.

“Uhm, Dohna… ano pang kelangang gawin?”

Hahaha, punyetang kalandian ‘to. Nakalimutan ko bigla yung sine.

ICANG

Sa Baywalk habang naglalakad kasama ko sina Icang, Dohna and Chinggay, napasigaw ako: “Oh my God! ICE MONSTER!!!” Peborit ko kasi ang Ice Monster. Strawberry forever.

Sabi ni Dohna, “Shet, Ice Monster tayo!”

Nag-second the motion naman ako. “Honga! Tara! Ice Monster! Ice Monster!”

“Ay, malamig e. Anlamig-lamig na nga, malamig pa kakainin natin,” hirit ng KJ na si Chinggay.

Sabi ko naman, “Sige na nga. Hanap na lang tayo ng iba. Figaro na lang, para coffee tayo.”

So papunta na lang kami ng Figaro.

Biglang nagsalita si Icang, Excited na excited, “Guys, ayun o, may Ice Monster dun! Waaah! Ice Monster tayo!”

Uhm, Icang, where have you been?!? Kanina pa namin pinaguusapan, in fact, nagmove on na kami.

Minsan talaga, feeling ko, nakadrugs si Icang.

TEZ

Si Tez naman, minsan magulo kausap.

Yoshke: Tez, hanggang anong oras bukas ang shoot?
Tez: Oo.

Hala. Ewan ko sa’yo.

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Some of the most bloggable conversations I had with friends in the last three years. Allow me to repost them.

WITH MEAN CINEASTES

My friends from the university and I were playing Charades and the theme was movie titles. When an opponent drew Little Nicky, we thought it was a giveaway.

So when he started acting it out for his team, for the first word, he just levelled his palm at his hips and his team shouted Little right away. Hmmm. But Nicky was something less easy.

One of our team members was Monique, also known as Nikki. Monique is not the skinny type. She’s a bit, er… not the skinny type. It didn’t come as a surprise to us when the player who was acting out pointed to Nikki for the second word.

What we didn’t expect was when someone from his team shouted: “Pig? Little Pig?”

And they call me mean? Haha.

WITH A FOREVER-NAIVE FRIEND

A simple talk with a young friend (my ex’s brother) who was so unsure about how he felt.

Ken: How do you know if you’re in love?
Yoshke: I don’t think there are definite standard symptoms. You just know. That’s it. You just know. Why? Are you in love?
Ken: I don’t know.
Yoshke: You’re not in love.
Ken: What makes you so sure?
Yoshke: Cos you don’t know.

WITH MY HALF-FRENCH PSEUDO-BROTHER

This convo I had with Josh on our way to FC Gloria’s Canteen for lunch after our French class the day before my birthday.

Josh: You already got a copy of Kitchie Nadal’s album?
Yoshke: No. But I borrowed a friend’s and listened to it last night.
Josh: How was it? You liked it?
Yoshke: One big NO. I only liked a couple of tracks. The record is rubbish.
Josh: Oh, don’t be so cruel on her. You’d probably appreciate the album more if you listen to it a little longer.
Yoshke: I don’t think so. Only a couple of songs really appealed to me.

After lunch, he handed me something in a white plastic bag.

Josh: Here. It’s my present. Happy birthday. But don’t open it yet. Open it after I leave.
Yoshke: Why? Is it some kind of a bomb or something?
Josh: No. Just open it when I’m gone. Trust me on this one. Happy Birthday.

So, he left and I opened the package and *SURPRISE SURPRISE*

It was Kitchie Nadal’s album. Aaaaw.

WITH A FEMINISM GODDESS

While at Seatle’s Best Katipunan, Tricia and I were talking about how I would always portray women as evil and pathetic in my films. She’s a cold-blooded feminist, by the way.

Yoshke: It’s not that I hate women but if there’s a need for an evil or bad character in my films and I have a choice between a man and a woman, I’ll make sure it’s the woman.
Tricia: And why is that?
Yoshke: Cos I love men. Duh?

Status: Coz I try and try to walk away, but I know this crush ain’t goin’ away…
Music: Crush - David Archuleta

*Don’t cross: Deadly.

Another short conversation with a friend over Yahoo Messenger.

Yoshke: Done reading?
Robin: Aye aye. Sweet. Mushy.
Yoshke: Should I say “Thanks?”
Robin: lol. How come all your short, short, short stories are about friends falling in love?
Yoshke: NOT ALL. Just the ones I post on my blog.
Robin: Tell me, are you in love with a friend?
Yoshke: No.
Robin: Don’t tell me it’s me.
Yoshke: Whoah, is it just me or it really turned windy here in cyberspace?
Robin: Windy in cyberspace? You’re crazy.
Yoshke: And you’re presumptuous! Assuming much?
Robin: So why the fascination?
Yoshke: I just love writing about it but it doesn’t mean I’m in that predicament.
Robin: You’re in love with a friend. Who is it?
Yoshke: I am not.
Robin: Do I know him?
Yoshke: I am not in love with anyone.
Robin: One of your college friends? Office friends?
Yoshke: I will never be in love with a friend. I can’t be.
Robin: Oh, it’s one of those little rules you impose on yourself.
Yoshke: Yeah. And you know, when I like someone, I tell him right off.
Robin: Whore.
Yoshke: I meant, I don’t befriend someone just because I like him. Because once the friendship is drawn, there’s no crossing the line for me.
Robin: What if he’s the one to cross the line?  /:]
Yoshke: A speeding truck will run him over. =))
Robin: lol
Yoshke: You see, next to family, I value friendships the most. And I don’t wanna screw it up just so I could be in a romantic relationship when I can just fall in love with someone else with which there’s no friendship to screw up.
Robin: Man, you ARE in love with a friend.
Yoshke: I am not! And I’m signing out if you say it again.
Robin: You’re in love with a friend.

I am not. Never have been. Never will be. I SWEAR.

…

Last week at the apartment…

Glenn: Do you have a copy of the first three seasons of House?
Yoshke: The first two are with Dohna. You’re addicted, aren’t ye?
Glenn: Yeah. (He paused a bit and then continued talking.) Every time I see Dr. House, I am reminded of you. No offence meant.
Yoshke: None taken. Haha. May I know why?
Glenn: You’re both sarcastic.
Yoshke: Damn, I thought you’d say we’re both brilliant. Hahaha.

Laughter. Silence.

Yoshke: But, you know, it takes wit to be sarcastic. So I’ll take that. Haha.

…

Last year in Robin’s car, on the way to Tagaytay.

Robin: You should make a career out of that.
Yoshke: Out of what?
Robin: Humiliating people.
Yoshke: I don’t humiliate people!
Robin: You just told me that all it would take was just one queer push and I would turn gay instantly.
Yoshke: But I always tell you that.
Robin: Not over dinner. In front of my entire family.
Yoshke: Aright, forgive my occasional lack of tact.
Robin: You meant to say it. You enjoy humiliating me.
Yoshke: Well, it only matters if you think I’m right. And I’m not. (pause) Right?
Robin: Of course not. I can’t believe we’re talking about this.
Yoshke: Er, aright, I’m sorry.
Robin: Don’t say sorry unless you mean it.
Yoshke: I mean it.
Robin: Friendly tip: don’t make a career out of this.
Yoshke: Out of what?
Robin: Acting sincere. You suck at it.

(more…)

Humans are social animals. This means that we have to live both as individuals and as members of a group. Sometimes, however, we just find ourselves not getting along well with some types of people. No matter how much we try, we find it extremely difficult to like some people for reasons ranging from little nasty habits to utter viciousness.

Throughout the day, we encounter countless types of people. While some are truly delightful, others are just plain vexatious. They may be our friends or family but there are just something we love to hate about them. Here are the top 18 most annoying types of people we encounter everyday.

18. THE WIZARDING GUARDS

I don’t know about other countries, but here in the Philippines, we have a lot of security guards who really do magic. What am I talking about? Well, these guards are those stationed at the entrance to the mall or train station. What’s really magical is they just point their “wands” to your bag, a little flick and voila! You’re bomb-free!

And when something happens, like a bombing or something, the management claims they perform security measures thoroughly. Thoroughly, my ass.

17. THE INDECISIVE ONES

Don’t get me wrong, I’m also one heck of an indecisive guy but not when it comes to frivolous things. I love my friends but when it’s time to eat out, I hate them.

Me: So where are we having lunch?
Friend 1: You decide. I’m ok anywhere.
Friend 2: Me, too.
Me: Aright, Kenny Rogers.
Friends: Eeeeh. I don’t like their food there.
Me: Sbarro.
Friends: It’s too costly. And I’m not in the mood for pasta.
Me: Food Court.
Friends: The place stinks. And too crowded.
Me: KFC.
Friends: Again?! We’re always there. And don’t say McDo.
Me: Well, you decide!
Friend 1: No, you decide. I’m OK anywhere.
Friend 2: Me, too.

Gaaaaaaawd. Why are these people my frieeends?! Why me, why meee?!

16. THE ‘CHANGELESS’ CASHIERS

Remember this post? I just hate it when cashiers tell me they have no change and ask persistently if I have a smaller bill. Ask once, it’s okay. But when I tell you I don’t have a smaller bill, it means I don’t.

Cashier: Do you have a smaller bill, sir.
Me: I’m sorry, I don’t.
Cashier: Really, sir? Because I don’t have change, sir.
Me: Really. I don’t.
Cashier: But sir, I don’t have change.

Why in the world does that have to become my problem when I’m the customer? And as Odin said, “What’s even worse is after you had that annoying conversation, after you’ve gone all trough your pockets and dug inside your bags and the cashier finally gives up, she would then open some sort of secret compartment or pull out a bag from under somewhere. Turns out she had change after all!”

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A few months ago, I was teaching my 4-year old nephew some nursery rhymes with a DVD. After a lot of singing, he slowly digested the story that the rhymes tell. And then he began asking rather uncomfortable questions. One of the first rhymes I taught him was Humpty Dumpty.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King’s horses, And all the King’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again!

He might have finally understood the rhyme when he gasped and said curiously, “Did he die?”

“Well,” I replied, “he’s an egg. Who cares?”

“I like eggs. Did they cook Humpty Dumpty?”

“Maybe. Who knows?” He looked sorry but we went on singing. And then there was Rock-A-Bye Baby.

Rock a bye baby on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.

And again, my nephew asked, “Tito, did the baby die?”

“I hope not. But it was just a baby and it fell from a tree. So… Poor baby.”

“Why was the baby on top of the tree?”

“I dunno. Maybe it was a baby koala bear,” I dodged, not realising that a-koala-cub-in-a-cradle was a very stupid thought. But really, my nephew was right, why the hell is the baby on the tree top, anyway?

I went on teaching him more nursery rhymes. Itsy Bitsy Spider. Pop Goes the Weasel. Peter Peter Pumpkin-eater. Old King Cole. Baa Baa Black Sheep.

I’ve always noticed that many of our nursery rhymes are actually very violent. I don’t usually give a damn. But my nephew was smart enough to understand what he was singing and sensitive enough to actually feel for the characters. After almost every rhyme I taught him, he would ask me what happened to the character.

• to Peter’s wife whom he kept inside a pumpkin. (Peter Peter Pumpkin-eater)
• to the itsy-bitsy spider after going up the spout again (Itsy Bitsy Spider)
• to the three blind mice after the farmer’s wife cut off their tails (Three Blind Mice)
• to the four and twenty blackbirds that were baked in a pie (Sing a Song of Sixpence)
• to Jack who fell down and to Jill who tumbled after (Jack and Jill)

I had to remind my nephew that it was bad to make fun of blind people (or blind mice, for that matter) and that pies don’t have dead black birds in them (at least, not usually). And guess what my nephew said after Jack and Jill. “Tito, did they die?”

Thank God he didn’t ask how many people were killed when the London Bridge fell down.

But even before this incident, I’ve always been wondering why these nursery rhymes have a sort of violent theme. Glenn once told me that they reflect history — what was happening at the time of the rhyme’s creation. It was only five minutes ago when I did some research and this is what I have found.

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“I think you’re 80% straight.”

I was startled by these ridiculous words from my friend Chemae. We were walking back to the cottage at a resort in my hometown in Batangas. The conversation went like this:

Yoshke: Well, that remaining 20% makes me totally gay. 1% can make someone gay, you know.
Chemae: I think in time, you’ll go straight again.
Yoshke: You think so? I doubt that.
Chemae: Aila (our common friend) warned me about you.
Yoshke: Warned you about me?
Chemae: She thinks you’re just pretending to be gay when you are really straight.

Wahahaha. That was officially the most preposterous accusation thrown at me since Frances suspected that I was in love with Astrid or since Ken told me that I only claimed I was gay so I could finally break it off with her sister (who was my girlfriend at the time). Hahaha. I’ve always been very touchy with girls and most of them don’t mind because hey, I’m damn gay. But I guess Aila is one heck of a lady to convince.

Yoshke: Even after Daniel (not his real name; an ex-officemate and ex-boyfriend)? She didn’t buy the whole Daniel-Yoshke thing?
Chemae: Apparently not.

It’s funny. I don’t know how many people still think I’m straight when I see myself (and I know Tonet agrees) that I am already as gay as I can be. Either they’re right or they’re blind. Haha.

Aila and Chemae aren’t the only ones. In fact, I also had a similar conversation with my ex-roomie Tops. I’ve always considered Tops my older brother. I call him Kuya. He’s genuinely straight like the rest of my bestfriends. And he has this “Republican” worldview going on in his head.

Tops: When will you shape up?
Yoshke: Excuse me?
Tops: That gay thing. I know it’s just a phase.
Yoshke: I’m telling you this is sooo NOT just a phase.
Tops: It’s just a phase. Sooner or later you’ll come to your senses and realise everything’s just silly. And then you’ll regret it. And repent. You know, for your soul.
Yoshke: What are you? A priest? And what makes you so sure?
Tops: Because I know you! This might just be one of your experiments. And even after turning gay, your dreams didn’t change. You still want to have children of your own.
Yoshke: People change, Kuya.
Tops: No. They just try new things but they don’t change.
Yoshke: A long time ago you said you would never have a gay friend. Here you are sharing a room with one.
Tops: Because I like you. I’d known you even before you became like that. And to me you haven’t changed.
Yoshke: I have.

I told Glenn (a college friend) about these conversations one night.

Yoshke: Aila, Chemae and my ex-roomie think this is just a phase and I’ll come around. Silly, right?
Glenn: No. I agree with them.

Oh well. What is it with straight people that they’re so hard to convince sometimes?

I’m telling you. This is not just a phase. And even if it were, it had better be a long one because I friggin’ enjoy every minute of it.
image courtesy of cartoonstock.com

Exactly a month ago, I was staying at my brother’s room, watching Pushing Daisies (oh, Lee Pace is just sooo cute I wanna be dead and be touched by him), when my mother came in and said she wanted to talk. Something that never fails to send me to utter discomfort.

Mum: You told your Tita Esther you wanted to study in London?

Tita Esther is my mum’s friend who has just arrived from London. She visited last week and we kinda had a little chat and I kinda told her how much I wanted to study abroad.

Yoshke: Uhm, Er, I might have told her. Yuh.
Mum: You really want to?
Yoshke: Uhm, yeah, a bit.
Mum: Well, you may. I’m letting you.

(more…)

Status: Pissed.
Music: What About Now | Daughtry

I may be gay but I consider myself a gentleman. When riding the train, I usually give my seat to the woman standing in front of me. And when a woman and I happen to enter a building or a store at the same time, I give way and hold the door for her. These things, I do because I believe I am a good person. And of course, whenever I practice such acts of respect and generosity, and as common courtesy suggests, I expect a simple “Thank you.”

If the woman fails to thank me, I usually just shrug it off. Yes, I expect a tiny display of gratitude but I don’t really give a damn if her parents did a terrible job raising her. But what the woman shouldn’t do is screw me after I held the door for her. And that’s exactly what happened last Tuesday.

After walking around Glorietta with my very pretty cousin, I felt the need to check my email. So we headed to Netopia somewhere near Ayala MRT Station. As always, I opened the door for my cousin. Another woman entered as I was holding the door. After I had closed it, I approached the counter. There was an old man logging in so I stood behind him and waited for my turn. This woman approached the counter and positioned herself BESIDE the old man in front of me. She said to the cashier demandingly, “Internet, please.”

At that moment, I knew she was trying to get ahead of me and jump the queue. Two customers who had just arrived stood behind that woman, forming a longer queue.

Seconds later, the man in front of me was logged in and walked away from the counter. Again, the woman said, “Internet, please.” And because I knew what she was up to, I also said to the cashier, “Miss, Internet.”

To my surprise, the cashier reminded me that there was a line and asked me to stand at the end of it. I flashed a joshed look and protested tactfully, “Miss, I am first in line.”

Then, the woman beside me (the one I held the door for) said, “No, I am first here.”

I ignored the woman and said to the cashier, “I was standing behind the man who just left.”

But the woman was insisting, “No, I am first.”

At that moment, I felt my blood reach boiling point. So out of utter rage, I turned to that ugly, little bitch and said, “What the hell are you talking about?! You know I am first in line. I approached the counter first. And my Gawd, I even held the door for you when you were coming in!”

The woman yelled, “No, you’re a lier! You did not held the door for me!”

Believe it or not, I still managed to snicker! But I didn’t mind her grasp of the English language (or the lack thereof). I turned to the cashier and insisted calmly, “Miss, I am first in line. You may have thought this ungrateful woman here was because she kept on saying ‘Internet, please’ even when you were busy entertaining the man who was in front of me.”

With that, she logged me in and gave me a number. I turned around and started to walk away. But that old, ugly witch kept on shouting “You’re a lier. Stop lying!” She went on and on.

Lord, forgive me for having done this. I stopped walking, turned to her, and bellowed “BITCH!!!”

That shut her up. My cousin gave me a tap on the back and uttered smilingly, “Good job!”
…

PS: When I was logging out, the cashier apologized to me and claimed that her co-workers had just told her that I was THE first in line.

image courtesy of bonnvoyage.wordpress.com

Status: Way better.
Music: Feelin’ So Good | Jennifer Lopez

The past few weeks have been a bitch-ass on me. I struggled with tonsilitis, giving me hellish fever and excruciating time eating. For two weeks, I couldn’t get out of bed. The only time I went out of the house was when I decided to see a doctor. After all, this was my fourth tonsilitis this year and my usual meds didn’t seem to work this time. Ah, damn illness loves me so.

Since our family doctor was somewhere in the South celebrating summer, I chose to visit a hospital. My mum went with me and yes, I let her (because that meant she’d be the one payin’ the bills).

When I approached the front desk, it suddenly dawned on me that it was the hospital my ex-girlfriend works at. I prayed she won’t show up (coz I looked hideous). Thank God she did not. Instead, when I entered the emergency room (which also serves as the hospital’s clinic), I was welcomed by a young doctor — A HOTTT DOCTOR.

Life is pretty fair after all, I thought. Haha.

The nurses did the usual stuff — temperature, blood pressure, etc. And then the hot doctor (probably in his late 30s) started asking questions about my condition. He seemed puzzled that I had been taking the right meds but they weren’t working. And then he asked, “Have you been smoking?”

Thank God my mum was busy texting, she didn’t hear a thing. I asked her if she could just wait for me outside because hey, I’m 22.

After kicking my mum out of the room, I told the doctor that I had been smoking. Like any sane doctor, he asked me to stop. He then asked me to open my mouth coz he needed to take a look at my swollen throat. His brows met.

Me: Is it bad?
Doc: Let’s just say I couldn’t see your tonsils. They’re covered with pus.
Me: I’ll take that as “bad.”
Doc: What have you been shoving down your throat? (Rhetorical)
Me: You have no idea.

I grinned. He snickered. Haha. Then he placed his hands on my neck, just below my jaw and started feeling my swollen whatever.

Doc: Does it hurt when you swallow?
Me: Depends on what I swallow.
Doc: Haha. What else is there to swallow other than food?
Me: I meant, it depends on whether what I swallow is hot or cold. Cold, hurts big time. Hot, doesn’t.

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