7/26/2005
I have so much time to kill...
Because I skipped class. Surprised?
This one's ok...
Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com
But this one's so bad-ong... especially the last letter. Foul, pare!
Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com
This one's ok...
| N | Noisy |
| U | Unusual |
| S | Serious |
| S | Spiritual |
Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com
But this one's so bad-ong... especially the last letter. Foul, pare!
| N | Nutty |
| A | Ambitious |
| S | Smart |
| H | Huge |
| C | Charismatic |
| A | Awesome |
| S | Shocking |
| T | Trustworthy |
| R | Refined |
| O | Old |
Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com
How many petals around the rose?
Understanding men
- We could run up and down a basketball court for an hour but we couldn’t mow a lawn the size of a half court.
- We pride ourselves of lifting 200-pound weights for 20 reps, but we couldn’t carry a 20-pound baby for 20 minutes.
- We know gadgets, we know electronics stuff, we know the specs of our dream PC, but we couldn’t replace a bulb, fix a leak in the pipe, or jack a tire even if our lives depended on it.
- We have an extensive collection of sports, music, and men’s magazines stashed in a cabinet. Unfortunately, the wardrobe in our closets is just limited to shirts, shorts, socks, underwear, and three pairs of pants.
- We know the latest model of Nike Jordan Air, but we don’t know that a green long-sleeved polo, an oversized undershirt, a brown belt, black pants, white socks, and black leather shoes do not match.
- Our idea of a dream bachelor’s pad is a room full of unwashed dishes, used clothes strewn about, an overflowing and stinking trash bin, and a fly-infested box of leftover pizza left on the dining table. And we expect the ladies we pick up on parties to enter this dungeon.
- We watch women play sports not because they are talented or skillful, but because they look ravishing sweating in a skimpy attire.
- We stuff our mouths with anything potable or edible from beer to dog meat, but stop ourselves from eating healthy green, leafy vegetables. And if we do ever convert to vegetarianism, it would be because Pamela Anderson told us to do so.
- Our dream cable channel lineup would include the following stations: ESPN, ESPN 2, Star Sports, Jack TV, MTV, Channel V, WOWOW, the Playboy Channel, and other foreign channels. Damn the incomprehensible dialect, we’re just after the soft porn shown in the early morning.
- We know what fastbreak points mean, but our everyday vocabulary is just limited to the following words: “Uh?”, “Yeah”, “Darn”, and “Shit!”.
- We expect our beaus to be impeccable, when we ourselves have bad breath, a beer belly, and stinking feet.
- We have kickass gadgets, like the latest iPod, the newest cellphone purchased at the recent Tech Fair, but our bathroom toiletries are limited to a bar of soap, a toothbrush, a toothpaste, and a deodorant all bought at the nearest convenience store.
- We expect our dates to arrive on the dot but we go to work 30 minutes late.
- We are all for equal rights but run at the instance of sighting a cross-dressing faggot.
- We jack up the volume when we are watching our favourite show or listening to our favourite cd, but we curse anyone who wakes us up from our slumber.
- Females rage for a week because of PMS, males rage because they didn’t get a nookie for the night.
- We pull out our guns during traffic altercations, but turn into meek lambs when confronting our wives.
- We could hit ten bowling pins from 30 feet away, but we couldn’t shoot our pee in a toilet just a few inches from us.
- We throw beer on the opposing player because he gave our idol a hard foul.
- We attack the stands and pursue the nearest bystander because someone threw beer at us.
- We could kick a football a distance of 50 feet but we couldn’t saw a piece of wood into three equal parts.
- We pride ourselves of lifting 200-pound weights for 20 reps, but we couldn’t carry a 20-pound baby for 20 minutes.
- We know gadgets, we know electronics stuff, we know the specs of our dream PC, but we couldn’t replace a bulb, fix a leak in the pipe, or jack a tire even if our lives depended on it.
- We have an extensive collection of sports, music, and men’s magazines stashed in a cabinet. Unfortunately, the wardrobe in our closets is just limited to shirts, shorts, socks, underwear, and three pairs of pants.
- We know the latest model of Nike Jordan Air, but we don’t know that a green long-sleeved polo, an oversized undershirt, a brown belt, black pants, white socks, and black leather shoes do not match.
- Our idea of a dream bachelor’s pad is a room full of unwashed dishes, used clothes strewn about, an overflowing and stinking trash bin, and a fly-infested box of leftover pizza left on the dining table. And we expect the ladies we pick up on parties to enter this dungeon.
- We watch women play sports not because they are talented or skillful, but because they look ravishing sweating in a skimpy attire.
- We stuff our mouths with anything potable or edible from beer to dog meat, but stop ourselves from eating healthy green, leafy vegetables. And if we do ever convert to vegetarianism, it would be because Pamela Anderson told us to do so.
- Our dream cable channel lineup would include the following stations: ESPN, ESPN 2, Star Sports, Jack TV, MTV, Channel V, WOWOW, the Playboy Channel, and other foreign channels. Damn the incomprehensible dialect, we’re just after the soft porn shown in the early morning.
- We know what fastbreak points mean, but our everyday vocabulary is just limited to the following words: “Uh?”, “Yeah”, “Darn”, and “Shit!”.
- We expect our beaus to be impeccable, when we ourselves have bad breath, a beer belly, and stinking feet.
- We have kickass gadgets, like the latest iPod, the newest cellphone purchased at the recent Tech Fair, but our bathroom toiletries are limited to a bar of soap, a toothbrush, a toothpaste, and a deodorant all bought at the nearest convenience store.
- We expect our dates to arrive on the dot but we go to work 30 minutes late.
- We are all for equal rights but run at the instance of sighting a cross-dressing faggot.
- We jack up the volume when we are watching our favourite show or listening to our favourite cd, but we curse anyone who wakes us up from our slumber.
- Females rage for a week because of PMS, males rage because they didn’t get a nookie for the night.
- We pull out our guns during traffic altercations, but turn into meek lambs when confronting our wives.
- We could hit ten bowling pins from 30 feet away, but we couldn’t shoot our pee in a toilet just a few inches from us.
- We throw beer on the opposing player because he gave our idol a hard foul.
- We attack the stands and pursue the nearest bystander because someone threw beer at us.
- We could kick a football a distance of 50 feet but we couldn’t saw a piece of wood into three equal parts.
The ultimate deam bachelor pad
One small room would suffice, as long as it would fit all the equipment in. It doesn’t matter if it’s just a cabin out in the woods, or in a condominium in a busy city. As long as plumbing and sanitation is splendid, electricity is working, and telephone lines are available. Cable tv service is optional (if satellite or HDTV is available, might as well utilize those).
If it’s right in the middle of the urban jungle, might as well buy one that has a nice view when I look out at the window (which doesn’t amount to much), and preferably somewhere on the top floors. For safety purposes.
No tsunami could reach me from the 30th floor. Besides, if power runs out, it’s an excuse for me to power jog using the fire exit stairs. Happened once to me and Glen in Providence. Bringing along a camera, we did a Blair Witch Project-like shot, running down the stairs. A few conversations and 15 floors later, we were already at the exit.
Now for the equipment. A sofa bed for two is adequate, although I reckon the other half wouldn’t put into good use anytime soon. For extreme emergency purposes only. Immaculate white sheets for simplicity, although it needs a lot of maintenance (read: washing).
Flat screen tv (so that it wouldn’t consume much space) with cable or satellite. TIVO and a game console (preferably XBOX or PS3) optional.
Top of the line desktop PC with all the kick-ass specs from a 16MB video card, a sound card that would emulate DTS with matching booming speakers (either that or connected as auxiliary to the component), a DSL/cable internet connection that doesn’t fluctuate during heavy traffic. A 16-inch LCD flat screen is an alternative. USB, Bluetooth, infrared, a DVD rom, a CD-RW drive, 120gigs of happy disk space, 2ghz processor, 1gig SDRAM, a user-friendly GUI Linux OS, if not MAC OS. Anything but Windows. It would just screw everything up.
A cordless phone that doesn’t fuck up after the guarantee runs out.
A Pioneer compo that could read everything from vinyl, cassette, VHS, ACD, VCD, to DVD. 200-watt 4-way speakers for that ultimate surround experience.
All of them are connected with each other.
A mini-ref that could fit in five 1.5-liter bottles of rootbeer. A bathroom that has a sink, a toilet, a medicine cabinet, a bathtub, and a shower.
Who needs airconditioning when I could just pull up the window and let the sun shine in?
Once acquired all of these, there is no need for me to leave that pad.
-----
Now, the hard part. The budget.
A unit in Providence costs a million bucks. For now, I could bring along my PC (who could at least play Sid Meier’s Civ 3) and the sofa bed I am using in Imus.
The component I have so far needs a lot of fixing… nay, I need to buy a new one. If only I could its speakers to replace the standard one that came along with the packaged set. It couldn’t even say stereo even if you poke it with a ten-inch knife.
The tv might cost 50-grand. Maybe even more. Is there anyone selling a TIVO in this country anyway?
The PS3 or XBOX2 might reach around the same price as the tv.
A computer with those specs could reach 150-thou. The phone might go for 10g’s.
I don’t really know how much a component or a mini-ref costs. If I do plan to live in the woods, a ticket to England and the stress of acquiring a visa would cost more.
-----
To fulfill my dreams, I should have P1,311,000 in the bank. That doesn’t count the monthly utilities… and taxes.
Someday, my child. Someday…
If it’s right in the middle of the urban jungle, might as well buy one that has a nice view when I look out at the window (which doesn’t amount to much), and preferably somewhere on the top floors. For safety purposes.
No tsunami could reach me from the 30th floor. Besides, if power runs out, it’s an excuse for me to power jog using the fire exit stairs. Happened once to me and Glen in Providence. Bringing along a camera, we did a Blair Witch Project-like shot, running down the stairs. A few conversations and 15 floors later, we were already at the exit.
Now for the equipment. A sofa bed for two is adequate, although I reckon the other half wouldn’t put into good use anytime soon. For extreme emergency purposes only. Immaculate white sheets for simplicity, although it needs a lot of maintenance (read: washing).
Flat screen tv (so that it wouldn’t consume much space) with cable or satellite. TIVO and a game console (preferably XBOX or PS3) optional.
Top of the line desktop PC with all the kick-ass specs from a 16MB video card, a sound card that would emulate DTS with matching booming speakers (either that or connected as auxiliary to the component), a DSL/cable internet connection that doesn’t fluctuate during heavy traffic. A 16-inch LCD flat screen is an alternative. USB, Bluetooth, infrared, a DVD rom, a CD-RW drive, 120gigs of happy disk space, 2ghz processor, 1gig SDRAM, a user-friendly GUI Linux OS, if not MAC OS. Anything but Windows. It would just screw everything up.
A cordless phone that doesn’t fuck up after the guarantee runs out.
A Pioneer compo that could read everything from vinyl, cassette, VHS, ACD, VCD, to DVD. 200-watt 4-way speakers for that ultimate surround experience.
All of them are connected with each other.
A mini-ref that could fit in five 1.5-liter bottles of rootbeer. A bathroom that has a sink, a toilet, a medicine cabinet, a bathtub, and a shower.
Who needs airconditioning when I could just pull up the window and let the sun shine in?
Once acquired all of these, there is no need for me to leave that pad.
-----
Now, the hard part. The budget.
A unit in Providence costs a million bucks. For now, I could bring along my PC (who could at least play Sid Meier’s Civ 3) and the sofa bed I am using in Imus.
The component I have so far needs a lot of fixing… nay, I need to buy a new one. If only I could its speakers to replace the standard one that came along with the packaged set. It couldn’t even say stereo even if you poke it with a ten-inch knife.
The tv might cost 50-grand. Maybe even more. Is there anyone selling a TIVO in this country anyway?
The PS3 or XBOX2 might reach around the same price as the tv.
A computer with those specs could reach 150-thou. The phone might go for 10g’s.
I don’t really know how much a component or a mini-ref costs. If I do plan to live in the woods, a ticket to England and the stress of acquiring a visa would cost more.
-----
To fulfill my dreams, I should have P1,311,000 in the bank. That doesn’t count the monthly utilities… and taxes.
Someday, my child. Someday…
I would probably spend my first paycheck...
- Looting Music One or Tower Records completing my Oasis and Eraserheads discography.
- Malling in Glorietta.
- Starting my original DVD collection. Tops on the list are: Loser, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Hero.
- Buying DVD episodes of Friends on Ebay.
- Purchasing pirated PC games that I’ve been dying to play. Sid Meier’s Civilization I, II, and III are tops on the list.
- Watching a movie in the cinema per week.
- Donating a thousand bucks to charity.
- Giving whatever’s left to my mom.
On the second month…
- Purchase original DVDs of The House of Flying Daggers, Superman I, II, and III, and Great White Hype.
- Start and complete my Green Day discography.
- Find a way to acquire the whole Larry Laffer series.
- Donate a thousand bucks to charity.
- Give the rest to my mom.
On the third month…
- Update my wardrobe.
- Buy DVDs of The Yeltsin Project, The Truman Show, and Keka.
- Complete my Keane and Coldplay discography.
- Complete The Sims.
- Donate a thousand bucks to charity.
- Give what’s left to my mom.
- Malling in Glorietta.
- Starting my original DVD collection. Tops on the list are: Loser, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and Hero.
- Buying DVD episodes of Friends on Ebay.
- Purchasing pirated PC games that I’ve been dying to play. Sid Meier’s Civilization I, II, and III are tops on the list.
- Watching a movie in the cinema per week.
- Donating a thousand bucks to charity.
- Giving whatever’s left to my mom.
On the second month…
- Purchase original DVDs of The House of Flying Daggers, Superman I, II, and III, and Great White Hype.
- Start and complete my Green Day discography.
- Find a way to acquire the whole Larry Laffer series.
- Donate a thousand bucks to charity.
- Give the rest to my mom.
On the third month…
- Update my wardrobe.
- Buy DVDs of The Yeltsin Project, The Truman Show, and Keka.
- Complete my Keane and Coldplay discography.
- Complete The Sims.
- Donate a thousand bucks to charity.
- Give what’s left to my mom.
UAAP men’s basketball forecast
Disclaimer: Win-loss records not for statistical measure
FEU (11-3)
UE (10-4)
DLSU (8-6)
UP (7-7)
AdU (7-7)
ADMU (7-7)
UST (1-13)
NU (1-13)
Conclusion:
That's how close the fight for the last spot (and probably even the third slot) for the Final 4 would be.
Remember, this is a pre-season prediction, and UP's early winning run is not a factor.
I predict UST and NU splitting their series. Unless, they surprise one of the top dogs.
FEU (11-3)
UE (10-4)
DLSU (8-6)
UP (7-7)
AdU (7-7)
ADMU (7-7)
UST (1-13)
NU (1-13)
Conclusion:
That's how close the fight for the last spot (and probably even the third slot) for the Final 4 would be.
Remember, this is a pre-season prediction, and UP's early winning run is not a factor.
I predict UST and NU splitting their series. Unless, they surprise one of the top dogs.
7/25/2005
UAAP notes
Some things the UAAP board should look into
The lousy acoustics of the Blue Eagle Gym. It really sounded weird over the tv when the stadium barker had to drone “time out” twice just for him to be heard. Whoever suggested of having games there in the first place?
The overt commercialization done by Studio 23. Let me count the ways.
They have this lame promo ad that made the team’s respective top players turn into superheroes. I mean, LA Tenorio as The Blue Eagle, flying like Superman. I just had to laugh at Joseph Yeo. He looked like the Green Lantern instead of The Green Archer. The kicker is Warren de Guzman running in place while the effects zoom behind him. He looked more like a sprinter answering the starting gun rather than a Growling Tiger.
Then, we have the KFC assist of the game, the Rexona barkada of the game, the Mentos barkada of the game, the Close Up couple of the game, the best player of the game, the Milo energy player of the game, the top rebounder of the game. Then we had the Ford Focus Fiasco during opening weekend.
This has got to stop. This is insane! The PEx thread has become a reality!
-----
A lame UAAP men’s basketball weekend. The only ‘quality’ game there is the one pitting UE and UP.
Nevertheless, it was a Pumaren Saturday as both brothers won against their respective opponents. They did it Araneta.
Speaking of game venues, if the trend continues, they should start exorcising the Blue Eagle Gym. In the four games the Archers have played so far, two have been victories in Araneta and two were losses in Ateneo.
I smell conspiracy, yes.
-----
The Badinggawi Dance Troupe is going down. First of all, they have this tacky uniform that oddly resembles DLSU pep’s that was stitched by LA Gear. Apparently, nothing good comes out from anything LA.
To top if off, they had this mother of all jologs routine that surpassed FEU’s canned music routine. Coming from a many-time Nestle Nonstop Cheerdance Competition champion, I am highly disappointed.
The UP Cheerdance Group is the only remaining decent cheerdance group in the UAAP. And I gave up with UAAP cheerdancing three years ago when they just started ripping off each other’s routines.
-----
The Eagles are ahead by light years and coach Norman Black is crying foul, the second in a span of a week. Obviously, something is still wrong with this year’s officiating.
Nevertheless, I don’t want to be harsh with them because the legendary The Coach Joe Lipa is both the UAAP and NCAA Commissioner and that coach Maynard Ballecer is the head of the officiating pool. And I don’t hear any complaints coming from the NCAA side of the fence. At the same vein, they must be doing something right as well.
-----
LA Tenorio suffered from cramps while Doug Kramer got thrown out and might face a possible suspension next game. All’s well so far.
Speaking of Doug, the ADMU-NU game was so bad that the player that got thrown out was the match’s best performer and top rebounder.
-----
The FEU courtside reporter, the daughter of former FEU men’s basketball coach Danny Gravieres, stammered like crazy in yesterday’s game. I could do just as bad during the NCAA courtside reporter auditions, which I did. How come she got a slot?
Bring back Jam Alindogan, I say!
The lousy acoustics of the Blue Eagle Gym. It really sounded weird over the tv when the stadium barker had to drone “time out” twice just for him to be heard. Whoever suggested of having games there in the first place?
The overt commercialization done by Studio 23. Let me count the ways.
They have this lame promo ad that made the team’s respective top players turn into superheroes. I mean, LA Tenorio as The Blue Eagle, flying like Superman. I just had to laugh at Joseph Yeo. He looked like the Green Lantern instead of The Green Archer. The kicker is Warren de Guzman running in place while the effects zoom behind him. He looked more like a sprinter answering the starting gun rather than a Growling Tiger.
Then, we have the KFC assist of the game, the Rexona barkada of the game, the Mentos barkada of the game, the Close Up couple of the game, the best player of the game, the Milo energy player of the game, the top rebounder of the game. Then we had the Ford Focus Fiasco during opening weekend.
This has got to stop. This is insane! The PEx thread has become a reality!
-----
A lame UAAP men’s basketball weekend. The only ‘quality’ game there is the one pitting UE and UP.
Nevertheless, it was a Pumaren Saturday as both brothers won against their respective opponents. They did it Araneta.
Speaking of game venues, if the trend continues, they should start exorcising the Blue Eagle Gym. In the four games the Archers have played so far, two have been victories in Araneta and two were losses in Ateneo.
I smell conspiracy, yes.
-----
The Badinggawi Dance Troupe is going down. First of all, they have this tacky uniform that oddly resembles DLSU pep’s that was stitched by LA Gear. Apparently, nothing good comes out from anything LA.
To top if off, they had this mother of all jologs routine that surpassed FEU’s canned music routine. Coming from a many-time Nestle Nonstop Cheerdance Competition champion, I am highly disappointed.
The UP Cheerdance Group is the only remaining decent cheerdance group in the UAAP. And I gave up with UAAP cheerdancing three years ago when they just started ripping off each other’s routines.
-----
The Eagles are ahead by light years and coach Norman Black is crying foul, the second in a span of a week. Obviously, something is still wrong with this year’s officiating.
Nevertheless, I don’t want to be harsh with them because the legendary The Coach Joe Lipa is both the UAAP and NCAA Commissioner and that coach Maynard Ballecer is the head of the officiating pool. And I don’t hear any complaints coming from the NCAA side of the fence. At the same vein, they must be doing something right as well.
-----
LA Tenorio suffered from cramps while Doug Kramer got thrown out and might face a possible suspension next game. All’s well so far.
Speaking of Doug, the ADMU-NU game was so bad that the player that got thrown out was the match’s best performer and top rebounder.
-----
The FEU courtside reporter, the daughter of former FEU men’s basketball coach Danny Gravieres, stammered like crazy in yesterday’s game. I could do just as bad during the NCAA courtside reporter auditions, which I did. How come she got a slot?
Bring back Jam Alindogan, I say!
Cardinals rules of basketball...
Something forwarded by Xyldrae...
1. Be unselfish.
2. Play as a team.
3. Play defense.
4. Listen to your coach.
5. Respect your opponents.
6. The most dangerous player is the one who brings the ball to play.
7. Make free throws, it’s a must.
8. Protect the ball at all times.
9. Every possession counts.
10. Always expect the unexpected.
If all else fails, the team that plays with more heart and love for the game always wins.
1. Be unselfish.
2. Play as a team.
3. Play defense.
4. Listen to your coach.
5. Respect your opponents.
6. The most dangerous player is the one who brings the ball to play.
7. Make free throws, it’s a must.
8. Protect the ball at all times.
9. Every possession counts.
10. Always expect the unexpected.
If all else fails, the team that plays with more heart and love for the game always wins.
7/20/2005
If I have a slogan, it would be...
JP Abcede, turning off women since 1982.
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More to come. I had it in my head for the past month. Stupid me for not taking it down.
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More to come. I had it in my head for the past month. Stupid me for not taking it down.
7/19/2005
Who needs links...
The ten-minute exam
'Tis what I hate with major exams here in DLSU-D. They disrupt your routine schedule, you have to force yourself to wake up very early so as to catch the 8am exams, and you have to deal with Murphy's Law along the way.
Last year, that happened twice in one subject. Arrived 30 minutes after the test started. Apparently, some students finished earlier. If I only knew, I would just take a special exam in lieu instead.
Then, there's REED105 this semester. It doesn't help that the prof is an anal-retentive ass (pardon the pun). He has a point though. The no permit-no exam policy is not his, it's the school's. That's why it sucks.
And I thought I beat the buzzer this time...
Last year, that happened twice in one subject. Arrived 30 minutes after the test started. Apparently, some students finished earlier. If I only knew, I would just take a special exam in lieu instead.
Then, there's REED105 this semester. It doesn't help that the prof is an anal-retentive ass (pardon the pun). He has a point though. The no permit-no exam policy is not his, it's the school's. That's why it sucks.
And I thought I beat the buzzer this time...
7/12/2005
It's a Lasallian week
The DLSU Legends and All-Stars defeated their respective rivals in the ADMU-DLSU showdown.
Then, the DLSU Lady Spikers beat the UST Tigresses for their second straight Shakey's V-League championship.
Finally, in one day, the DLSZ Junior Archers and the DLSU Green Archers won over the Blue Eaglets and Blue Eagles.
And to complete the hat trick, Lasallian Jong Uichico gave San Miguel's 17th PBA championship versus an Atenean-funded Talk N Text ballclub.
Then, the DLSU Lady Spikers beat the UST Tigresses for their second straight Shakey's V-League championship.
Finally, in one day, the DLSZ Junior Archers and the DLSU Green Archers won over the Blue Eaglets and Blue Eagles.
And to complete the hat trick, Lasallian Jong Uichico gave San Miguel's 17th PBA championship versus an Atenean-funded Talk N Text ballclub.
7/09/2005
Looking for a 'new' tennis id0l
Now that Maria Sharapova has been Serena-ized (wearing shoes with golden sparkles), and it seems unfair to be jumping into the Roger Federrer bandwagon, I decided to renew my interest in the pro tennis tour and look for rallying points.
Alas, I have some 'criteria' on who should my next id0ls would be:
1. He/she must not be American.
2. He/she should either be an upcoming rookie or an established veteran.
3. Has decent oncourt skills to at least remain in the top 50 WORLD rankings.
I must be looking in the wrong places because the id0ls I've been searching were, all the time, just right under my radar. Meet him and her.
Alas, I have some 'criteria' on who should my next id0ls would be:
I must be looking in the wrong places because the id0ls I've been searching were, all the time, just right under my radar. Meet him and her.
Political news
Do you know why London was bombed? Because sour graping New Yorkers and sore French people can't accept the fact that they lost the hosting of the 2012 Summer Olympics to a city of blokes.
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There would be national elections in this country in 2010. Transitional government, my ass!
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There would be national elections in this country in 2010. Transitional government, my ass!
7/01/2005
The birthday day that was
This is an entry that has two intros. Choose which you prefer.
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Itong si Jordan, gulang ay 23…
…as the Rivermaya song goes. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I don’t have a Rosemarie who would be having her debut any time soon. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about “that” for the moment. Rather, I want to discuss about the first day my age is similar to the number at the back of Michael Jordan’s jersey. And it’s not 45, idiot.
Or it could start this way…
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Thanks for the gift, Spy
Sinong sawa, sinong galit? Sumigaw ngayong gabi, ANIMO LA SALLE!!!
If there was one song that would be a soundtrack for one special day in my life, it would be Bamboo’s “Hallelujah”. That special day was when my age officially resembles Michael Jordan’s jersey number. And it’s not 45, idiot.
Now, on with the story…
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The day started quite so-so. If we’re going to be strict about it, I was watching Amelie Mauresmo beat Anastacia Myskina to a bloody pulp in Wimbledon women’s quarterfinal action when the clock struck 12 to begin June 29.
While channel surfing, I chanced upon the music video of Bamboo’s “Hallelujah”. Make a mental note of that because I’ll be referring that song a lot of times later.
Since I went to bed late (I’m having a self-induced curfew at 12mn when school started… which I rarely follow), I was woken up by a shriek downstairs. Screaming back, I asked what time it was. It was 9-ish.
Still no need to panic, but I had a self-imposed call time of 10am so that I’ll have ample time to prepare for my first gig this year with Livewire. Yes, my first gig after a year’s hiatus. I see a trend there, but I’ll drift.
In addition, I just timed seeing the Minnesota Timberwolves draft Rashad McCants. I would have loved McCant’s shooting help the Indiana Pacers, but there must be a reason why things didn’t end up that way. With Sam Cassell and Latrell Sprewell getting volatile because of their contracts (you wouldn’t be in Minny if Kevin Garnett didn’t sacrifice a big pay cut to acquire you nitwits), add in an unstable McCants in the roster, and they might just self-implode some more.
Then the Pacers would snag the Tar Heel in next year’s offseason while the Wolves “rebuild”. That would be fun. I apologize for drifting, sorry.
Anyway, I left at the house past 10am and arrived in school at about 10:30. One sign that things aren’t starting on the right foot: I entered the wrong venue. Lugging Spy’s guitar with me, I felt like a lost froshie inside the PLS.
Although I was told that CLA’s gig would be held at Lake Park, you’ll never know what last-minute changes they do in haphazard-organized school events. Yes, I was wandering in CBA’s Freshmania thingy.
Good thing I spotted Con-con Legaspi and Ekay Maravilla on the walkway towards the innards of the campus. If you don’t know who they are, go research your collegiate volleyball.
Good thing I had the previous day’s copy of Inquirer Sports. Gave it to Con-con as “souvenier” because she was mentioned in the V-League article. I saw her injury and the three of us were making fun of it as if it’s just a sprain. Well, her injury is just a sprain in her left ankle.
Oh yeah, also saw Alyssa’s “Proud ako dito” and the real Alyssa in the “MRT” (my other term for the walkway beside the oval). From her I got the confirmation that CLA was doing their thing in Lake Park.
Hope I’m not yet late…
I arrived and the party was just starting. Still had time to log in at HF. I patiently waited for my spot (I was part of the finale), when the sky suddenly became overcast. What the? Moments ago, “groupies” shaded Livewire and Prime with umbrellas under the heat of the sun.
And as Badjet ordered the froshies to proceed to the grandstand for free food, thunder rolled. Ok, pack up, show’s over, shower’s on, mother packer.
Feck. My first gig got rained out. Uncharacteristically, Wimbledon’s schedule id on smooth sailing with only a few matches being halted due to darkness. Feck, again.
Lunch hour was a flurry of activity. I was deciding on whether to go to the oval for the “free food”, lounge in HF while waiting for he bigger Freshmania party to commence at 1pm, or attend my first Statistics class. Guess what, I got to do all three.
Apparently, Stat class had an exam that day and the prof was just waiting for one student to finish her test. Handed her my class card and gave me my first assignment. Cool.
Then proceeded to HF to lounge. Finding myself unproductive reading blah Inquirer news, I excused myself from the staff meeting went to the grandstand.
As an afterthought, my horoscope that day rang true. Post it when I get that day’s h-scope.
Going back, I didn’t see any free food, but I did catch Tort fussing because it was already past one in the afternoon and the program hasn’t started yet. Ha, Filipino time.
Apparently, he and I were grossly misinformed. Want to know how disorganized this event was? Each college has their own respective programs, own emcees, and the bad part was, no one informed the other. Bara-bara, in the strictest sense of the word, Freshmania was. And CLA won’t have the stage until 3pm… or at least that’s what the time assignment said.
As CLAPOT and the other performers trickled in at about quarter to two, I grabbed the opportunity to either catch the HF staff meeting or at least pull some people to watch us make a fool of ourselves. My selling point was that Yassu and the Boylets would perform, only that Yassu and “the boylets” would be doing different bands. Alyssa has her own COS group, while Spy and I would be in Livewire, and Spy, Donnie, and Ray would represent CET with Starfish. Finally, the other Rei remained in HF for layout purposes.
For a birthday day, I found myself unusually grumpy. I slept at 1am and woke up at 9am. Hey, I had my eight hours of sleep. That shouldn’t be the case. Oh well… as Shakira would say, “Whenever!”
Had a shouting match with the Ass-suck-shit editor as I try to weed JE out of the office and towards the grandstand. And that didn’t end there. More on that later.
Jonas met us downstairs and joined. There was some blah hip-hop group running out of breathe onstage. I just had to laugh.
Well, “HF Sports” couldn’t last that long. Both had to leave early for academic reasons. Studious bunch, these two. Sayang, pare. Both of you missed half of your lives.
As the performers one by one walk away with the uncertainty of getting mic time since COS have been hogging the stage for the past two hours or so, we only got to do our soundcheck by 4:30pm. By this time, the guitar amps were starting to foul up.
Oh yeah, before I continue, the Zealots, the band right before Livewire, suddenly had the genius idea of doing “Hallelujah”. First thing that entered my mind was, “Uh oh.” Then I started moshing sarcastically, shouting, “Patay. Wala na.”
There was a look of concern in Spy’s face. An unwritten rule in musical performance states that covers done earlier cannot be played later on. One, redundancy. Two, it won’t have the same effect. What more if done one after the other?
Although Spy was entertaining the idea of scratching the Bamboo single out of the set list, CLAPOT and the others were still game to the idea of doing “Hallelujah”.
“Kapain mo na lang (reaction of the audience),” Badjet suggested.
Valiantly, the band still went onstage. They started off with a reggae rendition of the De La Salle Alma Mater Hymn. Now, that’s cool.
Then I did this reggae dance I picked up from a Rasta man in an Indio I gig in an NU107 Pocket Concert. Livened up the audience, amen. It helped that the CLA crowd was just plainly rowdy and simply appreciative of homegrown talent.
Livewire then followed it up with Hale’s “The Day You Said Goodnight”. I tell you, this is WRONG… so BAD-ONG, to paraphrase the Chosen One in Kung Pow. After hearing the word “Hail” almost a million times, my ears have to bleed because it has to surrender hearing a Hale song.
It’s enough that Champ has been stealing hearts from across the nation. This is plain overkill. If Hale was a knife, I’d be dead by now.
Ok, calm down, JP. You’re drifting again. Mental note: she’s already tekken.
I was awakened from my nightmare when Spy asked the pepped up froshies, “Gusto niyo pa?” They replied with a resounding, “Oo!”
He then asked for a moment of silence for all the journalists killed while doing their job. How timely. After the momentary hush, Spy said, “Tayo’y magdasal at magpasalamat sa Kanya.” Then Ael’s bass boomed into life (by this time, Ejay’s and Croox’s guitars were barely audible).
Get your mosh shoes ready, it’s “Hallelujah”! Nippon was helping me out with his brand of “back-up dancing”. Then after the pre-chorus after the rap, Spy pointed his mic in my direction. All right! The cue the two of us talked about and “rehearsed” for days.
“Whoah-ho-oh-oh! Hallelu-Hallelujah!” I screamed.
Spy then grabbed the spare mic while I jerked away the one he was holding. Now, to do the stuff I’ve been “rehearsing” while watching live performances of my favourite bands on tv. I ran towards the front of the staged and bellowed at the top of my lungs…
“Sinong sawa? Sinong galit? Sumigaw ngayong gabi, ANIMO LA SAAALLE!!!”
What a feeling it was!
I handed the mic back to Spy while I proceeded stage right, recovering my breath. At the last note, I was giving them the hands-down bow. Ash-tig, fare!
Literally, I was huffing like a dog and my throat was dry from that vocal exercise. Hell with thirst and respiratory shortgivings. That was the friggin’ time of my life!
Thanks for the gift, Spy. That’s the best birthday gift I have received my whole life. A close second was when I did the NCAA opening basketball marathon with Bjoe and Enzo on my 20th.
Also saw two of my krasses in the varsity booth. Oops, enemies spotted. Must act with great stealth and caution. Ended up treating Ekay for “pizza”.
Then the show dragged on… blah, blah, blah. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see HF Sports writer Ayeen do her stuff on the catwalk. As the rubbing alcohol went, “’Di lang pang Sports, pang-modelo pa!” Astig! Pa-otograp!
Finally, Starfish capped the night while the crowd thinned during Lasallian Pop Band’s last set. That’s what you get for being too poppy.
In the end, Yassu didn’t get to play but “the boylets”, sans Rei, had their respective 15 minutes.
As nightcap, I went to HF to log out. Finally, they DID remember to greet me. I was waiting for YOU to do so the whole day and I was expecting YOU were the first people who would, you fokkers. All you want is the friggin’ free food (I just love assonance)!
Well, then, if you want fod, come with me to Imus. Took some prodding to and another temper tantrum to separate the chaff from the grain, aka, the prima donnas (“Just bring food tomorrow.”) from those who sincerely appreciate my presence and not just what’s on the table.
Eric (James) doesn’t say no to ANY party even if it’s held in Basilan or in South Pole, so he’s a given. Besides, he’s the first one who was pestering me as soon as the calendars read June.
Viva was just plain hungry. Besides, cut her some slack. She labored that layout of Just Play. A pleasant surprise, though, was Eric (Nicole).
Meanwhile, those who didn’t make it were Allan and Kate, who had “work” to do (really now); Upper had curefew, Tiffany walked away with Joemar (he was supposed to come with me, erm?); and Maycee walked away by herself. Errr… is it full moon?
Anyway, our conversations shifted from tennis, HF matters, tennis, school stuff, tennis, ghost stories and other urban legends within and without the DLSU System and Viva’s residence, tennis, general sports knowledge, more tennis, Cholo, Purple and the rest of HF Features, and tennis. Just like tennis, our discussions volleyed back and forth. Good dinner conversations, I might say.
Eric Nicole lectured us innocents on the history, fashion, and idiosyncrasies of lawn tennis, the different kinds of serves and volleys, while watching Andy Roddick grope for form against Sebastian Grosjean.
They left at about 1130om with Grosjean ahead by a set. Eric Nicole found it hard to peel himself out of his seat with a quarterfinal match going on. I said, if he hurry, he might catch it at the comfort of his own home. Well, it did reach five sets.
By this time, I was switching between Wimbledon and the replay of the NBA Draft. I wanted to know who the Pacers took in the second round. And I also saw “Hallelujah” in MYX.
I knew the day came to an “end” when I started falling asleep on the sofa while waiting for pick #47. I slept on that one. Nyargh!
-----
PSses…
Spy, admittedly, you and Jeff were the stars of the show, but thanks nevertheless for making my day.
Xyldz, sorry kung hindi tayo nagpang-abot sa HF. Kinarir ko Livewire. Hallelujah! By the way, hinahanap ka nina Baguio at ng ibang varsity. Siyet, sikat ka.
Ekay, hindi para sa iyo iyon. Tama na Oishi Caramel Popcorn sa’yo! Sabi ni July “pumapayat” ka na raw.
-----
Itong si Jordan, gulang ay 23…
…as the Rivermaya song goes. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I don’t have a Rosemarie who would be having her debut any time soon. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about “that” for the moment. Rather, I want to discuss about the first day my age is similar to the number at the back of Michael Jordan’s jersey. And it’s not 45, idiot.
Or it could start this way…
-----
Thanks for the gift, Spy
Sinong sawa, sinong galit? Sumigaw ngayong gabi, ANIMO LA SALLE!!!
If there was one song that would be a soundtrack for one special day in my life, it would be Bamboo’s “Hallelujah”. That special day was when my age officially resembles Michael Jordan’s jersey number. And it’s not 45, idiot.
Now, on with the story…
-----
The day started quite so-so. If we’re going to be strict about it, I was watching Amelie Mauresmo beat Anastacia Myskina to a bloody pulp in Wimbledon women’s quarterfinal action when the clock struck 12 to begin June 29.
While channel surfing, I chanced upon the music video of Bamboo’s “Hallelujah”. Make a mental note of that because I’ll be referring that song a lot of times later.
Since I went to bed late (I’m having a self-induced curfew at 12mn when school started… which I rarely follow), I was woken up by a shriek downstairs. Screaming back, I asked what time it was. It was 9-ish.
Still no need to panic, but I had a self-imposed call time of 10am so that I’ll have ample time to prepare for my first gig this year with Livewire. Yes, my first gig after a year’s hiatus. I see a trend there, but I’ll drift.
In addition, I just timed seeing the Minnesota Timberwolves draft Rashad McCants. I would have loved McCant’s shooting help the Indiana Pacers, but there must be a reason why things didn’t end up that way. With Sam Cassell and Latrell Sprewell getting volatile because of their contracts (you wouldn’t be in Minny if Kevin Garnett didn’t sacrifice a big pay cut to acquire you nitwits), add in an unstable McCants in the roster, and they might just self-implode some more.
Then the Pacers would snag the Tar Heel in next year’s offseason while the Wolves “rebuild”. That would be fun. I apologize for drifting, sorry.
Anyway, I left at the house past 10am and arrived in school at about 10:30. One sign that things aren’t starting on the right foot: I entered the wrong venue. Lugging Spy’s guitar with me, I felt like a lost froshie inside the PLS.
Although I was told that CLA’s gig would be held at Lake Park, you’ll never know what last-minute changes they do in haphazard-organized school events. Yes, I was wandering in CBA’s Freshmania thingy.
Good thing I spotted Con-con Legaspi and Ekay Maravilla on the walkway towards the innards of the campus. If you don’t know who they are, go research your collegiate volleyball.
Good thing I had the previous day’s copy of Inquirer Sports. Gave it to Con-con as “souvenier” because she was mentioned in the V-League article. I saw her injury and the three of us were making fun of it as if it’s just a sprain. Well, her injury is just a sprain in her left ankle.
Oh yeah, also saw Alyssa’s “Proud ako dito” and the real Alyssa in the “MRT” (my other term for the walkway beside the oval). From her I got the confirmation that CLA was doing their thing in Lake Park.
Hope I’m not yet late…
I arrived and the party was just starting. Still had time to log in at HF. I patiently waited for my spot (I was part of the finale), when the sky suddenly became overcast. What the? Moments ago, “groupies” shaded Livewire and Prime with umbrellas under the heat of the sun.
And as Badjet ordered the froshies to proceed to the grandstand for free food, thunder rolled. Ok, pack up, show’s over, shower’s on, mother packer.
Feck. My first gig got rained out. Uncharacteristically, Wimbledon’s schedule id on smooth sailing with only a few matches being halted due to darkness. Feck, again.
Lunch hour was a flurry of activity. I was deciding on whether to go to the oval for the “free food”, lounge in HF while waiting for he bigger Freshmania party to commence at 1pm, or attend my first Statistics class. Guess what, I got to do all three.
Apparently, Stat class had an exam that day and the prof was just waiting for one student to finish her test. Handed her my class card and gave me my first assignment. Cool.
Then proceeded to HF to lounge. Finding myself unproductive reading blah Inquirer news, I excused myself from the staff meeting went to the grandstand.
As an afterthought, my horoscope that day rang true. Post it when I get that day’s h-scope.
Going back, I didn’t see any free food, but I did catch Tort fussing because it was already past one in the afternoon and the program hasn’t started yet. Ha, Filipino time.
Apparently, he and I were grossly misinformed. Want to know how disorganized this event was? Each college has their own respective programs, own emcees, and the bad part was, no one informed the other. Bara-bara, in the strictest sense of the word, Freshmania was. And CLA won’t have the stage until 3pm… or at least that’s what the time assignment said.
As CLAPOT and the other performers trickled in at about quarter to two, I grabbed the opportunity to either catch the HF staff meeting or at least pull some people to watch us make a fool of ourselves. My selling point was that Yassu and the Boylets would perform, only that Yassu and “the boylets” would be doing different bands. Alyssa has her own COS group, while Spy and I would be in Livewire, and Spy, Donnie, and Ray would represent CET with Starfish. Finally, the other Rei remained in HF for layout purposes.
For a birthday day, I found myself unusually grumpy. I slept at 1am and woke up at 9am. Hey, I had my eight hours of sleep. That shouldn’t be the case. Oh well… as Shakira would say, “Whenever!”
Had a shouting match with the Ass-suck-shit editor as I try to weed JE out of the office and towards the grandstand. And that didn’t end there. More on that later.
Jonas met us downstairs and joined. There was some blah hip-hop group running out of breathe onstage. I just had to laugh.
Well, “HF Sports” couldn’t last that long. Both had to leave early for academic reasons. Studious bunch, these two. Sayang, pare. Both of you missed half of your lives.
As the performers one by one walk away with the uncertainty of getting mic time since COS have been hogging the stage for the past two hours or so, we only got to do our soundcheck by 4:30pm. By this time, the guitar amps were starting to foul up.
Oh yeah, before I continue, the Zealots, the band right before Livewire, suddenly had the genius idea of doing “Hallelujah”. First thing that entered my mind was, “Uh oh.” Then I started moshing sarcastically, shouting, “Patay. Wala na.”
There was a look of concern in Spy’s face. An unwritten rule in musical performance states that covers done earlier cannot be played later on. One, redundancy. Two, it won’t have the same effect. What more if done one after the other?
Although Spy was entertaining the idea of scratching the Bamboo single out of the set list, CLAPOT and the others were still game to the idea of doing “Hallelujah”.
“Kapain mo na lang (reaction of the audience),” Badjet suggested.
Valiantly, the band still went onstage. They started off with a reggae rendition of the De La Salle Alma Mater Hymn. Now, that’s cool.
Then I did this reggae dance I picked up from a Rasta man in an Indio I gig in an NU107 Pocket Concert. Livened up the audience, amen. It helped that the CLA crowd was just plainly rowdy and simply appreciative of homegrown talent.
Livewire then followed it up with Hale’s “The Day You Said Goodnight”. I tell you, this is WRONG… so BAD-ONG, to paraphrase the Chosen One in Kung Pow. After hearing the word “Hail” almost a million times, my ears have to bleed because it has to surrender hearing a Hale song.
It’s enough that Champ has been stealing hearts from across the nation. This is plain overkill. If Hale was a knife, I’d be dead by now.
Ok, calm down, JP. You’re drifting again. Mental note: she’s already tekken.
I was awakened from my nightmare when Spy asked the pepped up froshies, “Gusto niyo pa?” They replied with a resounding, “Oo!”
He then asked for a moment of silence for all the journalists killed while doing their job. How timely. After the momentary hush, Spy said, “Tayo’y magdasal at magpasalamat sa Kanya.” Then Ael’s bass boomed into life (by this time, Ejay’s and Croox’s guitars were barely audible).
Get your mosh shoes ready, it’s “Hallelujah”! Nippon was helping me out with his brand of “back-up dancing”. Then after the pre-chorus after the rap, Spy pointed his mic in my direction. All right! The cue the two of us talked about and “rehearsed” for days.
“Whoah-ho-oh-oh! Hallelu-Hallelujah!” I screamed.
Spy then grabbed the spare mic while I jerked away the one he was holding. Now, to do the stuff I’ve been “rehearsing” while watching live performances of my favourite bands on tv. I ran towards the front of the staged and bellowed at the top of my lungs…
“Sinong sawa? Sinong galit? Sumigaw ngayong gabi, ANIMO LA SAAALLE!!!”
What a feeling it was!
I handed the mic back to Spy while I proceeded stage right, recovering my breath. At the last note, I was giving them the hands-down bow. Ash-tig, fare!
Literally, I was huffing like a dog and my throat was dry from that vocal exercise. Hell with thirst and respiratory shortgivings. That was the friggin’ time of my life!
Thanks for the gift, Spy. That’s the best birthday gift I have received my whole life. A close second was when I did the NCAA opening basketball marathon with Bjoe and Enzo on my 20th.
Also saw two of my krasses in the varsity booth. Oops, enemies spotted. Must act with great stealth and caution. Ended up treating Ekay for “pizza”.
Then the show dragged on… blah, blah, blah. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see HF Sports writer Ayeen do her stuff on the catwalk. As the rubbing alcohol went, “’Di lang pang Sports, pang-modelo pa!” Astig! Pa-otograp!
Finally, Starfish capped the night while the crowd thinned during Lasallian Pop Band’s last set. That’s what you get for being too poppy.
In the end, Yassu didn’t get to play but “the boylets”, sans Rei, had their respective 15 minutes.
As nightcap, I went to HF to log out. Finally, they DID remember to greet me. I was waiting for YOU to do so the whole day and I was expecting YOU were the first people who would, you fokkers. All you want is the friggin’ free food (I just love assonance)!
Well, then, if you want fod, come with me to Imus. Took some prodding to and another temper tantrum to separate the chaff from the grain, aka, the prima donnas (“Just bring food tomorrow.”) from those who sincerely appreciate my presence and not just what’s on the table.
Eric (James) doesn’t say no to ANY party even if it’s held in Basilan or in South Pole, so he’s a given. Besides, he’s the first one who was pestering me as soon as the calendars read June.
Viva was just plain hungry. Besides, cut her some slack. She labored that layout of Just Play. A pleasant surprise, though, was Eric (Nicole).
Meanwhile, those who didn’t make it were Allan and Kate, who had “work” to do (really now); Upper had curefew, Tiffany walked away with Joemar (he was supposed to come with me, erm?); and Maycee walked away by herself. Errr… is it full moon?
Anyway, our conversations shifted from tennis, HF matters, tennis, school stuff, tennis, ghost stories and other urban legends within and without the DLSU System and Viva’s residence, tennis, general sports knowledge, more tennis, Cholo, Purple and the rest of HF Features, and tennis. Just like tennis, our discussions volleyed back and forth. Good dinner conversations, I might say.
Eric Nicole lectured us innocents on the history, fashion, and idiosyncrasies of lawn tennis, the different kinds of serves and volleys, while watching Andy Roddick grope for form against Sebastian Grosjean.
They left at about 1130om with Grosjean ahead by a set. Eric Nicole found it hard to peel himself out of his seat with a quarterfinal match going on. I said, if he hurry, he might catch it at the comfort of his own home. Well, it did reach five sets.
By this time, I was switching between Wimbledon and the replay of the NBA Draft. I wanted to know who the Pacers took in the second round. And I also saw “Hallelujah” in MYX.
I knew the day came to an “end” when I started falling asleep on the sofa while waiting for pick #47. I slept on that one. Nyargh!
-----
PSses…
Spy, admittedly, you and Jeff were the stars of the show, but thanks nevertheless for making my day.
Xyldz, sorry kung hindi tayo nagpang-abot sa HF. Kinarir ko Livewire. Hallelujah! By the way, hinahanap ka nina Baguio at ng ibang varsity. Siyet, sikat ka.
Ekay, hindi para sa iyo iyon. Tama na Oishi Caramel Popcorn sa’yo! Sabi ni July “pumapayat” ka na raw.
Trends to watch out for from June 30, 2005 to June 28, 2006.
Some of these were already happening before. Just means they would continue for yet another year.
- irregular body clock
- awake/asleep in awkward times of day/night
- would barely attend classes and excuse myself because of “extracurricular” stuff
- would be Livewire’s resident roadie. If I do get to perform, my set would be cut out at the last minute.
- Would be more intent to watch the pro tennis tour
- Would be following the NBA like a mad stalker
- Hit-and-miss gimmicks with JE and Jonas
- Would have lots of krasses and stop there
- Intelligent, inspiring dinner table conversations
- Less food, more water
- Run around campus like a hyena on steroids
- Pocket full of coins and spare change
- Bracelets lost and found
- Moshing on stage would be a more regular thing. Stealing the spotlight would be nice. “Nagmamaganda” as Eyah put it.
- This has nothing to do with me, but, the DLSU-D USC would organize more sucky events.
- Amps would give way during Livewire’s set. Due to this, CLAPOT would get cut while performing.
- More temper tantrums in HF.
- More temper tantrums with Maycee
- Would be introduced to Alyssa’s friends only to find out later they’re already tekken.
- Soliciting articles from athletes for HF
- Hobnob with the athletes more than usual
- Bamboo, Coldplay, Greenday, Ceasars
- Good Charlotte (bad cheetah), Imago, MYMP would be heavy on playlists.
- Reading the Inquirer and taking them home.
- Would be lectured in tennis by Eric Nicole
- Would find it hard to use HF’s PCs (it’s a miracle!)
- Logging in and out of HF would be a mathematical mess
- Always carrying a bag full of stuff
- Telemiscommunication or tele-missed-communication
- Doze off in front of tv
- Sweating like a flowerbed full of morning dew
- Picking up pens
- Getting disorientated in a big campus
- Miss lunch
- Expensive transportation fare
- Would be late or be in a hurryWrite offbeat stuff and make superficial lists
- irregular body clock
- awake/asleep in awkward times of day/night
- would barely attend classes and excuse myself because of “extracurricular” stuff
- would be Livewire’s resident roadie. If I do get to perform, my set would be cut out at the last minute.
- Would be more intent to watch the pro tennis tour
- Would be following the NBA like a mad stalker
- Hit-and-miss gimmicks with JE and Jonas
- Would have lots of krasses and stop there
- Intelligent, inspiring dinner table conversations
- Less food, more water
- Run around campus like a hyena on steroids
- Pocket full of coins and spare change
- Bracelets lost and found
- Moshing on stage would be a more regular thing. Stealing the spotlight would be nice. “Nagmamaganda” as Eyah put it.
- This has nothing to do with me, but, the DLSU-D USC would organize more sucky events.
- Amps would give way during Livewire’s set. Due to this, CLAPOT would get cut while performing.
- More temper tantrums in HF.
- More temper tantrums with Maycee
- Would be introduced to Alyssa’s friends only to find out later they’re already tekken.
- Soliciting articles from athletes for HF
- Hobnob with the athletes more than usual
- Bamboo, Coldplay, Greenday, Ceasars
- Good Charlotte (bad cheetah), Imago, MYMP would be heavy on playlists.
- Reading the Inquirer and taking them home.
- Would be lectured in tennis by Eric Nicole
- Would find it hard to use HF’s PCs (it’s a miracle!)
- Logging in and out of HF would be a mathematical mess
- Always carrying a bag full of stuff
- Telemiscommunication or tele-missed-communication
- Doze off in front of tv
- Sweating like a flowerbed full of morning dew
- Picking up pens
- Getting disorientated in a big campus
- Miss lunch
- Expensive transportation fare
- Would be late or be in a hurryWrite offbeat stuff and make superficial lists
Mid-year review
I started the year:
- without a cellphone
- unsure with my academic future
- watching wrestling
- thinking of Ms. Hale
6 months later:
- lost my phone
- taking up leftover subjects
- watching wrestling
- thinking of sex
Come to think of it, not much has changed since the start of the year.
- without a cellphone
- unsure with my academic future
- watching wrestling
- thinking of Ms. Hale
6 months later:
- lost my phone
- taking up leftover subjects
- watching wrestling
- thinking of sex
Come to think of it, not much has changed since the start of the year.
Signs of the times
You lose your hand-me-down Nokia 5110 while sleeping on you way home. Get this. The phone was inside my bag and I slept from Dasma to Robinson’s Imus. Estimating the traffic, I was on REM for about 20 minutes, and believe me, I’ve had longer sleeping episodes on much longer trips.
Happy Birthday sa iyo!
One good thing with having your birthday in the middle of the year is that you could assess what you did twice per annum, or if you’re ally obsessive, have two 365-day cycles overlap.
In the first scenario, looking back at the first six months means that it’s not too late to change or do stuff you plan on achieving in the next six. Think of it as a mid-year resolution. Besides, it’s easier to set goals in shorter timespans.
It’s like basketball. Let’s say you’re behind a big margin in halftime. The object is not to become overeager and try to eat up the lead in a single run.
Before leaving the locker, try to have a goal of at least making the deficit manageable by the end of the third quarter and then take it from there in the last 12 minutes. Look what the Talk N’ Text Phonepals did to the Ginebra Gin Kings recently.
As for the latter, how many people do mid-year resolutions from June to June? I usually don’t, but I’ll give it a try this time. Besides, with the academic calendar this country has, it isn’t awkward to do that.
Doing “soul searching” during Halloween season just before second semester starts doesn’t have that “long-term” feel to it because you’ll have a two-week Christmas break half and a month after to segue the year to the next. By then, you’ll be doing resolutions for the year ahead.
Thus, sometimes having academic resolutions in January doesn’t work especially if you’ve slacked off big time during prelims.It’s a state of mind, pare.
