yoshke.com

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: Ranting
Music: Pocketful of Sunshine - Natasha Bedingfield

Yogurt. Last Sunday, I woke up craving for some yogurt. Off to Mini-Stop convenience store. I grabbed a cup of strawberry-flavoured yogurt, approached the counter, opened my wallet and took out a P200-bill.

Then the cashier said, “Sir, don’t you have a smaller bill?”

I checked my pockets and looked for a smaller bill. Nadah. I pouted. Looking so apologetic, I responded, “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t.”

She told me, “But sir, I don’t have change. You really don’t have a smaller bill, sir?”

“I really don’t. If I had any, I would’ve given it to you coz I really want this damn yogurt right now.”

“But sir, I really don’t have change.”

The conversation went on for God knows how long — the girl telling me she didn’t have change and I, telling her neither did I.

MY GAWD. IT WAS FREAKIN’ INFURIATING. I’m sure, at one point, you have experienced something like this. And I’m sure it almost made your blood hit boiling point. I mean, come on, what did she expect me to do? Put the yogurt back on the shelf and just find another store? Gawd. It’s her duty to find change, not mine. I’m a freakin’ customer — and a hungry one at that.

So what did I do? I opened the cup of yogurt in front of her and said, “I’m willing to wait.”

When someone’s lazy, I turn bitchy. And those who come between yogurt and I shall be doomed. Never EVER deprive me of yogurt.

…

This is actually just a teaser of the next list that I will publish on this blog — top 18 most annoying types of people we encounter everyday. The list is complete but if you have suggestions, hit the post comment button. They just might make them to the list. I already have 18, but I can still change it to Top 20 or something.

image courtesy davesstrawhatinn.com

Not so many people know that Leona Lewis’s massive worldwide hit Bleeding Love is actually written by OneRepublic frontman Ryan Tedder and *surprise, surprise* Jesse McCartney. Yes, Beautiful Soul Jesse McCartney. That’s him.

Who would have thought? Whenever I share this trivia with my friends, they give me a where-did-you-get-that-crap-from look. Most of the time, they believe the Ryan Tedder part of the story but they just can’t buy the fact that Jessemac co-wrote it. That’s sad, really. I’m a Jessemac fan. He’s hot and talented and I have a copy of his two albums. Hehe.

Bleeding Love was originally intended for Jesse’s third album Departure (to be released on May 20). When Clive Davis heard it, he was so impressed but he wanted the track to be the carrier single of Leona’s album Spirit. He and Simon Cowell just knew that the song could make it big for Leona. And man, did that song make it big for Leona! Number 1 in 28 countries and last year’s Record of the Year in the UK. I looove Leona.

Here’s the thing. When songwriters create songs for a label, they generally need someone to sing the track to give the producers an idea of how it would sound. Well, Jesse did the same. Here’s a snippet of how the track would have sounded like had Jesse performed it.

NOT BAD! I have to admit, though, that Leona’s version is better by a lightyear. The song just suits a female voice better and is just PERFECT for Leona. But hey, I still dig Jessemac’s version. And I mean it.

I’m just a disappointed that since this snippet has somewhat leaked, it seems to me that the label (or whoever) is trying to take down all the youtube videos of Jessemac’s version. Aaaargh. I hope they would leave this one alone. Well, anyway, the full version is said to be included to the Departure album but only those released in Australia and Japan. Aaargh.

Status: I just can’t refuse it.
Music: Don’t Stop the Music - Rihanna

It’s time for some local showbiz commentaries. Haha. First up, the old reeking hottest buzz in tinsel town — the alleged Piolo Pascual and Sam Milby love affair as suggested by Lolit Solis. I don’t buy this. Well, maybe they have an affair but what Lolit claims that the two were seen doing something i-don’t-know at some hotel? Nah. Total bluff. And whenever people ask me why I don’t believe it, I always tell them this:

On December 17, as I was reviewing for the Foreign Service Exams at Starbucks Imperial Palace Suites in Tomas Morato, I was surprised to find myself surrounded by a few celebrities and the press. In front of me were Mickey Perz and Mommy Yen (Pinoy Big Brother Season 2). To my right, at the center of the cafe, were Lolit Solis and a battalion of other entertainment writers together with the queen bee, Anabelle Rama. Soon, other writers including Alfie Lorenzo started showing up.

As much as I tried to concentrate on my studying, I just couldn’t. They talked so loudly as if Starbucks turned into an urban zoo all of a sudden. I even overheard Lolit Solis expressing her desire to retract regarding the Piolo-Sam controversy she had sparked with her writeup.

“Gusto ko na ngang bawiin yung writeup,” she said.

Anabelle Rama, then, replied, “Bakit mo naman babawiin? Nasabi mo na e. Wag mo nang bawiin.”

Nice. Very nice. Although it doesn’t say anything regarding the validity of her claim, for me, wanting to retract says so much about her integrity (or the lack thereof).

And oh, by the way, the entertainment press were gathered there because the Gutierrez family would give away gifts, raffle-style (if I’m not mistaken). Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Philippine showbiz. Envelopmental journalism, anyone?

… Read the rest of this entry »

I had been receiving e-mails and text messages asking me why my blog was down and inaccessible this past week. 

I am so sorry. My blog was hacked. It’s only now that everything is going back to normal. But not completely. I still have to fix a lot of things. Right now, yes, it’s up and running.

Bear with me.

Status: Well I’m so garish, a little unfairish…
Music: Childish - Damien Rice

Someone so dear to me has just so casually called me “childish” and “immature.” It’s not a big thing really. But I don’t know why I’m bothered until now. Maybe because I think it’s true.

# # #

I just got a new haircut. I don’t like it. Uh. I think I want to kill a hairstylist right now. I’m contemplating which weapon to use. Scissors? Blade? Razor? Hairspray?

# # #

My sister borrowed some PhP100,000 from me. She said she couldn’t touch her savings and she wanted to start a business. I told her I would only lend her money if she agreed to give me 50% of the profits. She did. So yeah, I think I’m starting a new business. Wish me luck.

# # #

To you son of a bitch, STOP PESTERING ME! I did not screw your boyfriend. I maybe bitchy but I’m not a bitch. He’s cute a’right. But he’s insufferably dumb. All the poor guy knows about is “fashion.” I doubt if he can even spell it. He just gives me migraine attacks the way chocolates do. At least, chocolates have nuts. So. Fuck. Off. 

Status: Pissed
Music: The Power of Orange Knickers - Damien Rice and Tori Amos

I had a terrible dream last night. In my dream, I failed the second of the three Foreign Service exams because I flunked the Foreign Language part. Gawd. God must’ve been telling me to brush up on my French now. But everytime I grab my readings, something tells me to just do something less boring, like, I don’t know, blogging. And yeah, I’m just too darn lazy. Aaargh.

Actually, it’s not entirely my fault. After passing the first exam, I’ve been waiting for the second set for, like, forever but the Department of Foreign Affairs postponed the damn three-day exam. Talk about prolonging the agony.

Having a half-French younger brother, Josh, doesn’t help because aside from the fact that we haven’t been seeing each other lately, he doesn’t speak the language fluently, either. The guy is useless. Hehe. (I can say this because I know he doesn’t visit my blog so I can call him whatever I want. But Josh, if ever you stumble upon this post, know that I am just kidding. Hehehe.)

The last time I spoke French was two or three years ago (my French class). But it’s really hard to master a language that you don’t really use everytime. And not to mention that French is a really difficult language to learn. Je comprends et parle un petit peut français mais c’est tres complique et difficile. Waaaah. I should’ve taken up German instead.

I’m thinking of enroling in an intensive French course at Alliance Française de Manille this October. Or might just go back to UP.

I shall become an ambassador.

# # #

Another thing that pisses me off is the idea that I should’ve been in Singapore this past weekend. Tonet invited me to join her at a film festival there. I didn’t have a passport so last month, I requested for a copy of my birth certificate from the National Statistics Office.

Apparently, they have no record whatsoever of my birth. What the eff?! They said that the municipal office might have had forgotten to forward the document to them so all I had to do was wait while they process my papers and it took them forever. When I finally got my copy, I still had to apply for a passport and of course, it was too late. Tonet is now having the time of her life in Singapore and I’m still blogging here. Why didn’t I take care of my documents earlier, anyway? Pffffft.

First, London. Next, Shanghai / Beijing. Then, Jakarta. And now, Singapore. Why does laziness always get the better of me? If sloth is indeed a deadly sin, then heck, I better have a reservation in hell!

Oh well, c’est la vie.

picture courtesy of krustofski.com

Note: This is not a poem. 

To you, uber-cute son of a bitch (sorry, foul language),

Damn you, don’t text me.
When you text me, I can’t help replying.
When I reply, we start talking.
When we talk, we get to know each other better.
If we keep on doing that, we’ll become friends.

And we can’t be friends.
If we’re friends, we’ll get closer.
If we’re closer, I’ll care so much.
When I care that much, I fall.
When I fall (especially for a straight guy), I get hurt.
When I’m hurt, I become vengeful.
You won’t like that.

So please, don’t do this.
We can’t be friends.
Seriously.

And oh, again, don’t text me.
And stop calling me!!!

So there. I said it.

*** Actually, I really, really like the guy. He’s intelligent, knowledgeable, articulate, funny, and most of all, CUTE. But that’s exactly the problem. If he continues being nice to me, I’ll fall. To quote Ian Hainsworth (Desperate Housewives): “If we can’t have anything more than friendship, then we’d rather have nothing. Nothing at all.”

Waaaah. But damn! I like him.

Status: Pissed
Music: In God’s Hands - Nelly Furtado

I’m a little ticked off. Earlier today, while killing time with a friend at an open-air cafe, a young beggar approached us and asked for money. Being myself that time, I firmly said no, despite the kid’s persistence. My friend was appalled and dismayed by my firmness in not sparing the poor kid some coins. But you know, I’m just not the type who gives alms to paupers on the streets. So my friend just kept on saying not-so-nice things to me while gorging on some chocolate cake and drinking coffee. And I could stand it until he called me an arrogant anti-poor prick. That hit home.

Okay. So I don’t give alms. So what? Does that make me a bad person? Does that automatically mean that I don’t have a heart for the poor? For starters, the primary reason I don’t give money, not a single coin, to wandering kids is because I don’t want them to get used to it. Is it for me? No. It’s for them. What harm will it bring me if I spare them a few bucks? None. But it will harm them. By giving them money, they’d think they could just continue what they are doing running around on the streets begging for money. Does that make me arrogant?

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