Sinong bayani ang nakahubad? Eh 'di si Tetchie Agbayani!
If I were to make an all-era, top 5 list of Filipino actresses who totally do it for me, the list would look something like this:
1. Rio Locsin
2. Angel Locsin
3. Tetchie Agbayani
4. Claudine Barretto after the boob job, especially in that movie with Aga Muhlach where she doesn't wear a bra for the entire film
5. I'm torn between Cristina Gonzales and Anjanette Abayari
I'm bringing this up because I was watching this Pipol feature on Tetchie Agbayani last night. She's aged a bit (they said she's 44), and she's gained a little weight, but she's still pretty hot. Not only that, but apparently, she's now teaching Psychology in college (which is very good for her).
Can you imagine being a sixteen-year old freshman and then finding out that your teacher is the woman in this picture
? (The link, by the way, is totally not safe for work.) He probably would have spent the whole semester with a hard-on, which would be very inconvenient during ROTC.
My workmates have been giving me a hard time all day because I came in to work in a long-sleeved shirt and black shoes. Everyone who saw me today had a wisecrack about my appearance because, as Jio put it, "Sanay kasi kaming nakikita kang naka-tsinelas lang eh." The funniest wisecrack (as usual) came out of Bonbon
, who asked, "O, Jaemark, grumaduate ka ba kanina?" To which Darwin
later added, "Baka galing sa Baccalaureate Mass."Actually
, hindi ko lang masabi, mag-d-D.I. ako mamayang gabi.
I actually came from an interview for my graduate school application. Everyone else there actually wore spiffier clothing than I did, with neckties and everything. I almost cracked up when I saw that the professor who was going to interview me was wearing a very comfortable worn-out short-sleeved plaid polo.
I did well enough in what wasn't much of an interview, lasting only fifteen minutes. Probably not even worth wearing a long-sleeved shirt on a hot summer day for, or even a day's worth of ribbing from my workmates :p
While in the waiting room moments before my interview, I was thinking about what I was getting myself into. It's certainly something I've thought about doing for the longest time, ever since I first started working. It was something I thought I'd be doing some time in the future, and this was something I casually mentioned during job interviews, probably leaving my would-be employers more impressed than they ought to be, thinking Oh good, this kid's got ambition
. Soo not true.
In my mind, though, grad school was always in my future. But the thing with this future stuff is, it comes much sooner than you expect, and when you get there you just have to go out and do it. Which is why I was sitting there in the waiting room with only the vaguest idea what I was getting myself into.
So I made up a list of reasons why I was going into grad school:
-- I won't be available anymore, or at least, not as much. See, among my friends (and to a certain extent, among people at work), I'm the guy who's always available, and every other person is busy for some good, valid reason, like kids, girlfriends, some semblance of a life, etc. I won't have any of those, but at least I'd get to say, "Oh, I can't... I'm busy."
-- I could eat at Mang Jimmy's after class.
-- It's my last chance to get good grades. See, I've never been an honor student in my life, mostly because I've always been too lazy to put in the work required to get great grades. Maybe this will be my opportunity to make up for all of that. But I probably won't :p
-- I'd finally be a student at Diliman.
-- I could get myself a new UP ID. I lost my old UPLB ID during junior year, and I never got around to getting myself a new one until I finished school.
-- I'll get to write my old student number again. I know this sounds weird, but a couple of weeks ago, while passing my application form, the nice lady at the admissions office asked me to write down my old student number again, and I swear, it gave me the chills.
-- I'm 24. It's a three-year program. While I feel good about being a young-man-at-24, I'd probably feel better about myself being a young-man-at-27-with-a-master's-degree.
-- I'd (hopefully) meet new, interesting people. New, interesting people are good.
-- There's always a chance that I'd meet a rich, hot chick with a nice car. Although I'd probably settle for people who'd give me a lift to Mang Jimmy's.
I'm so exhausted. I've been under the weather since Monday, the runs since Wednesday, and I haven't been getting much rest, because I've been having a hard time falling asleep. Work's not helping things much either, with the endless meetings, ever-changing requirements, and tight deadlines. So after pulling an all-nighter last night at work (which, come to think of it, was my fault, because I'm so stupid :p), I was finally in the comforts of my bed this morning.
So, did I finally get the rest my body was craving for?
No. I watched basketball.
March Madness was finally on (stupid Solar didn't broadcast any games from the first two rounds), so I was glued to the Sweet Sixteen games, as well as Amare Stoudemire's return to the Phoenix Suns against the Trailblazers.
I caught parts of the Duke-LSU game, which Duke ended up losing
. I watched Duke play fairly often this season, since both Sports Plus and ESPN Star broadcast games from the ACC. Duke was due for an upset; they've been overachieving this season, ridiculously so because their entire team is built around JJ Redick (who plays a lot like Ren-ren Ritualo did during his DLSU days, complete with the swagger, that arrogant bastard). As good as Redick is, Duke's just particularly vulnerable when he gets cold, and while it admittedly didn't happen much this season, he stunk it up in the LSU game. It'd be interesting how he'll do next season in the pros.
I actually dozed off in the middle of the Duke game, and woke up just in time to see Portland getting their asses handed to them by the Suns
. I love the way Phoenix has been playing this year, with their quirky micro-ball lineups, perhaps even more so than last year. Amare's return gives them a chance to win it all, but to be sure, they better hope Dallas beats San Antonio first.
Again I dozed off in the middle of the game, and woke up just in time for garbage time. The Gonzaga-UCLA game was on. I've seen UCLA a couple of times this season, since Sports Plus also broadcasts Pac-10 games, but I was excited to finally watch Adam Morrison, about whom I've read a lot but haven't actually seen play. He looked great, and his rebounding, passing, and court vision were superb, but I agree with some critics that he's having a hard time getting open looks, even if he makes a fair amount of contested jumpers. Some of it has to do with his habits, but some of it I guess has to do with the coaching. His team depends on him to create his own looks, which is a shame, because he's money from mid-range when left wide open.
During the game the telecast cut to a feed from another match, Texas against West Virginia. The ending was crazy, as WV trailed by three with about 14 seconds left, and then their star Kevin Pittsnoggle hit a twenty-five footer. So with five seconds left, Texas runs the ball to their front court, and one of their guards hit a three-pointer at the buzzer to win it
The telecast cut back to the Gonzaga-UCLA game, and the Zags were leading comfortably in the second half when I decided to get going, as I still had to pass by the bank on the way to the office to deposit some checks. After an hour and a half(!) at the bank, I was surprised to see when I came in to the office that the Zags actually lost on a late rally by the Bruins
. Too bad for Morrison.
You've lost that lovin' feeling now it's gone, gone, gone
A few weeks back, we got cable here at the office and earlier, HBO was showing Top Gun. And of course, I just had to wait for this scene.
"She's lost that loving feeling."
"No, she hasn't!"
"Yes she has."
"She's not lost that lo..."
"Goose, she's lost it man."
"Aw sh... I hate it when she does that."
After the scene, I had to switch to Conan, because like Maverick, I get too emotional (and possibly constipated) when I find out that Goose is dead.
"Aren't you a bit young to be in love?"
"Oh, OK, right. Well, I'm a little relieved."
"Well, you know - I thought it might be something worse."
(Sounding incredulous) "Worse than the total agony
of being in love?"
"Oh. No, you're right. Yeah, total agony."
Napanood ko sa Bulagaan kanina:
Knock knock!Who's there?
Manny PacquiaoManny Pacquiao, who?
Kahit ako'y `di mo pinapansin
Hindi ako nagagalit sa `yo
Pagka't alam ko na ang iyong
Damdamin para sa `kin
Hindi mo lang alam ang aking
Nadarama `pag kapiling kaManny Pacquiao so sweet!
(Sige na tumawa ka na. Baka mautot ka pa diyan.)
Never Again! Concert for Freedom
A bunch of us are going to the FREE
concert organized by Conrado de Quiros
tomorrow at the UP Sunken Garden.
Artists include: Affinity, Isha, Noli Aurillo, Carol and Sammy (of Pinikpikan), Susan Fernandez and Lester Demetillo, Noel Cabangon, True Faith, Reggae Mistress, The Jerks, Session Road, Brownman Revival, Up Dharma Down, Giniling Festival, Paramita, Grasspipe, Radioactive Sago, Twisted Halo, Bobby Balingit and Juan Isip, Willie Nepomuceno, Leah Navarro, Dong Abay and Pepe Diokno, Cooky Chua and Color It Red (with guest Tots Tolentino), Pinwheel, Bridge, Hemp Republic, Coffeebreak, Agaw Agimat, Chin-Chin Gutierrez, Tropical Depression, Village Idiots, Crazy as Pinoy, Datu's Tribe, Lost in the Veins.
Show starts at 5:30 and should last into the night. Come, let's join us!
I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me
During my trip to LB last week, I actually kept the copy of my university clearance between the pages of Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood
, a book I finally finished just this past weekend.
I actually bought my first Murakami novel a couple of years ago. I was at Powerbooks at Megamall after work, looking for something new to read. The bestsellers display had a pile of books written by Murakami, whose name I had previously heard of but of whom I knew little about. I looked around a bit and finally settled on a copy of Dance Dance Dance
, in part because it shared the name of a Beach Boys song, and in part because the blurb talked about a psychic teenage girl who listened to the Talking Heads
That book was a good, exciting read, and after reading more about his work on the Internet, I started pining for his other work. Norwegian Wood
was the book that made Murakami a cultural sensation in Japan, and I finally got a copy last month from Lynn
. The novel borrowed its name from the title of the John Lennon song
It differed from Dance Dance Dance
in that it dealt less with the surreal and was more of a straightforward love story. Our hero is an average Japanese college student in the late '60s. Reeling from the death of his best friend, he finds comfort in the company of his best friend's girl, with whom he falls in love quite deeply. But the girl is very troubled and she goes away to get treatment for depression, while he is left to deal with the world outside. At university, he meets a dynamic young co-ed whose mission in life, it seemed, was to capture his heart.
The novel was surprisingly funny and simple. There are descriptions of typical dorm life, with odd roommates and weird characters, to which even I, who spent some time living in dorms in high school and college, could relate. He also pokes fun at would-be critics, with a girl asking the hero, "You aren't trying to talk like that Caulfield boy, are you?" perhaps realizing the comparisons the two would generate.
Most of the adventures are set in a Tokyo proudly displaying all the affectations of Western popular culture. We see our hero reading F. Scott Fitzgerald, taking a job at a record bar, picking up girls at bars, and listening to lots of Beatles records. It's a great backdrop for a book about love and loneliness.
Nick Hornby said
, "The only reason trendy pop groups don't write songs like the Beatles did is that they can't." In a way, this is true as well for books like Norwegian Wood
. It's not the easiest thing in the world to write about love, and about falling in love with a girl so deeply that it becomes heroic. We've seen a lot of people try and fail, and that is why the world is littered with banal pop songs and cheesy television shows and movies.
But Murakami definitely pulls it off, and quite brilliantly. He captures the loneliness and the happiness, the hope and the hopelessness that falling in love is all about. It is beautiful, heartbreaking, pitch-perfect, and the feeling stays with you for a while, even after it is over.
Just like a Beatles love song.
Labels: beatles, books
I'm currently at the office. Thankfully, I'm not here because of some emergency or tragedy (for a change), but because tonight was the StarStruck
finals. I know the show fairly well, having worked on the site all season long and watching the show regularly, so I could tell all about it.
But, the Ultimate Survivor was a dude, so I figured you won't be interested. But the female winner was really pretty, so here are pictures from when she was just starting, and when the contest was wrapping up.
Jackie Rice. Sabi nga nila, pangalan pa lang, ulam na!
Saw this story
while checking the site for errors:
NBI arrests murder suspect through Friendster photo
An NBI post operation report showed Hizon was positively identified by a witness to the crime through the suspect's Friendster (internet) account.
“The witness told us we can trace the suspects through Friendster," said Olivio Ramos, NBI Laguna head agent.
Ramos said they saw the suspect’s photo posted on his Frienster account. The suspect was with a male companion and was shown holding a gun.
The witness tagged Hizon as the one who shot the victims dead.
Things are getting weird. It's all probably just in my mind, but still...
I'm actually dying to talk about this in detail. Unfortunately, I can't talk about it here, for the same reason media can't report troop movements.
(Btw, if *you* think this is about you, it's probably not. Get over yourself already.)
Anyway, I'd probably tell you the story when we get together. You'd probably have to buy me a beer, though. But it'd be worth it. It's a funny story. I can tell funny stories.
Yeah, I know, sometimes I tell stories that were meant to be funny and ironic but aren't at all, but this one's funny. And charming. And sweet. And contains references to some of your favorite contemporary romantic comedies starring Hugh Grant (and maybe Robert Downey Jr., and even Adam Sandler).
It even ends with, "Y'know, Jaclyn Smith always was my favorite."
I was back at UPLB this morning for copies of my transcripts. I haven't really been back to LB since finishing school four years ago, and now that I think about it, I find it pretty retarded how I've been working all this time without any of my employers really requiring me to give them copies of my grades. But during the holidays, I had this crazy idea to try to get into graduate school, and so finally, after four years, I found myself going back to school.
I had visited Los Baños a couple of times before, but only to visit Hannah and Mark and Sam
, and even then I was there only in night time, and most of that time was spent outside the campus, so really, I haven't been back.
So why haven't I been back? Well, because I'm a wuss.
See, I'm afraid of ghosts. Not ghosts in Baker Hall, the gymnasium that is haunted by the spirits of Filipino and American soldiers brutally killed during Japanese occupation.
These ghosts never leave you alone.
These ghosts talk to you over Y!M, reminiscing about some moment you shared together once, and you lie and say you don't remember, because you wish you didn't.
These ghosts send you a message on Friendster, a message that ends with I hope you reply to this message... for old times' sake
and you feel like shit all over again because you know you're not replying, not even for old times' sake.
These ghosts call you up back in Manila, supposedly to meet with you at Glorietta to return your VCD of High Fidelity
. And then they'd say they'd pay for the burgers, and you let them, because you're tired of fighting and you just want to get out of there as soon as you can.
Then you almost feel bad all over again, for leaving, for being so cold, for being such a jerk. And yet, you feel a sense of relief, because you know they never were capable to ask, Why
Because sometimes, it doesn't take a bad person to do a bad thing. But it doesn't stop that person from feeling bad about it.
And then there's this weird, recurring dream I've been having since my last semester in college.
I was days away from finally finishing school, and I was spending most of my time in my bed, across the room from JAm
's. It was afternoon, and I just woke up from a nap. There was something about that bed, and something about that house, that made me take more naps than ever before in my life.
I went to a class at the western side of the campus. I couldn't figure out whether it was a management or a rural sociology class I was attending. Suddenly the class was over, and on the way back to the university's gate, I passed by an empty classroom. As the blackboard inside came into view, I realized that it was a class I had enrolled for at the start of the semester, and I missed that class that morning. In fact, I missed the class all semester long, having slipped from my mind that I was actually enrolled in it, so now, days away from the end of the term, I would surely flunk the class and I wouldn't graduate.
And then I would wake up, all sweaty and tense. The last time I had this dream was two months ago, the night before I was supposed to go to LB for Sam's dedication
Boarding the HM Transport Bus bound for Sta. Cruz, Laguna felt oddly familiar. I had, after all, done that probably a couple of hundred times before; I even recognized the Caucasian conductor/supervisor at the Cubao station.
Not everything was the same though. Instead of punched tickets, the conductor now issued printed receipts from a small portable machine. The bus I had boarded was a nice, new one, and I was able to almost fully recline my seat as I dozed off to Sugarfree.
I took a jeep to the Office of the University Registrar, and I was surprised when the driver charged me the discounted student fare, thinking I was still in the university. I smiled and gave him back the excess change, explaining the situation.
I still did not know how long it took to process a transcript application. My best hope was to apply for it, and then come back for it in a couple of days. I remembered filing for an application just before I graduated, but that was four years ago, and it was a long shot that they still had those transcripts lying around.
I knocked on window 7, and the woman seemed surprised that I was applying for a transcript for only the first time so long after I graduated. I took my chance and told her that I had actually filed an application four years ago, if she could take a look that maybe, there's an off chance that the transcripts were still there, and if they weren't, I would just file for a new application.
I handed my tattered universtiy clearance forms, up until then the only proof I had of graduating from college. She looked at my name, asked me what course I took, and a few moments later, turned up with my transcripts with a note that said not to release my transcript.
Oh my god, here's my nightmare coming true. I knew this was going to happen. Oh my fucking god, this is why I didn't want to go back!
The woman asked me to go see Mang Mar from the college secretary's office. I had known Mang Mar because he had been the person at that office assigned to handle my course during my last few semesters. He was actually assigned to different courses (Physics, I think, and a couple of others), but the person who took care of Computer Science left so he was assigned to us.
Mang Mar told me to look for Ms. Abrigo, or "Tita Mitz", at the BioSci building, to sort everything out. I rushed to BioSci where Tita Mitz was expecting me, holding a change-mat form with my name on it.
"There was an error in your registration the semester before you graduated, and one unit was left unpaid. We noticed this the semester after you graduated and we tried to contact you, but we couldn't. It had to be paid so you could graduate, so I just paid for your unit and asked Mar to be witness, so now you owe me P385.00 for that unit. I asked the Tita Rose from the registrar's office to hold your transcript and see me, but you never came back for it."
"So you've been holding on to this form for four years? Wow."
I gladly paid her the money, and profusely thanked the woman for her kindness. She wrote a note to Tita Rose saying that the amount I owed her had been paid for, and a few moments later I had my transcripts in my hands.
Boy I had terrible grades!
I had a quick lunch at Indio's, before taking a jeep to buy some buko pie and kesong puti. I boarded a bus back to Manila and was about to doze off happily, when a thought hit me.`
Shit, I forgot to get my diploma.
Help the victims of the Leyte tragedy
You can help the victims of the Leyte Tragedy through The Philippine National Red Cross (contact numbers: +632-527-0000 and +632-527-0858) or through the GMA Kapuso Foundation (contact numbers: +632-928-4299)
If you know of any other organization that is involved in sending relief goods, monetary donations etc to Leyte, feel free to post a comment here so we can get the word out.
Get get aww!
Bill Simmons talks about his favorite new shows
, and I found this part interesting:
"Deal or No Deal" (8 p.m., NBC)
Maybe the best dumb-yet-riveting show in the history of television, and that's saying something. The premise: Models keep opening numbered suitcases with hidden money figures in them, and the goal is to keep opening suitcases until there's only one suitcase left with a whopping figure inside (like $750,000) over a tiny figure (like $40). And while you're opening the cases, you have family members giving you advice, as well as host Howie Mandel (unbelievable) offering you a deal for a lesser amount of money to walk away. It's like "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire," only for people with an IQ under 75.
Of course, we were riveted. (At one point, the Sports Gal even said, "Why am I nervous right now? It makes no sense.") Remember my "Would you turn the channel?" test for NBA players competing in a half-court shot contest during All-Star Weekend? For whatever reason, this idiotic show passes the "Would you turn the channel?" test. It's hypnotically moronic. I can't believe that the game show genre has deteriorated to the point that (A) this passes for a good show, and (B) I can't wait for the next episode tonight. Shoot me.
Wow, Americans finally came around. And here I thought it's just us Pinoys who get suckered into Laban o Bawi
Kahit sulyap lang Tanya
I was at Gateway tonight because I was planning to buy a couple of new CDs, Kamikazee's Maharot
and Sandwich's Five on the Floor
. The record store didn't have the new <S> album in stock yet (I'll probably get it this weekend at Megamall, maybe along with the new Belle and Sebastian if it's there, I just heard the new single and it's GREAT).
Anyway, I did end up with the Kamikazee CD, featuring the lead single Narda
, which has been on heavy rotation in the music video channels. Deservedly so, because the song, quite simply, rocks.
I can't say the same thing about the rest of the album though. It's not terrible, by any means, but I was just a little disappointed because I liked their first album a lot. Except for the cover, the first album was a lot more kwela
. Also, the songs are too long; their music works much better in doses of 2-3 minutes instead of 5-6.
But the album was still worth it, if only for Narda and a couple of other notable tracks (Chiksilog, Shoot Dat Bol, Petix). Plus, the fillers are hilarious. It's an enjoyable album if you like this kind of music.
At the record store, I also picked up a copy of the latest FHM. It had only been moments earlier when I saw on the news that Tanya Garcia was on the cover
I actually hadn't bought an FHM in about two years. I think I made that decision after waking up one day, looking around my room, and realizing that I had too many FHMs. (In my defense, I used to work in Ortigas, and I was at Megamall every other day, and I only bought those back issues half-price at the Filbar's in the basement.) Besides, I figured, there's always someone around who has the latest copy anyway.
Anyway, the issue was... nice, to say the least. I always love it when formerly wholesome soap opera stars pose on FHM to revive their flagging careers. I just chalk up the cost of my copy as a donation to the cause.
I haven't been reading many books lately, as I discussed in my last book update. Most of my reading had been limited to graphic novels and comic book compilations.
Over the holidays, my officemate Jojo lent me his copy of Jim Starlin's The Infinity Gauntlet
. Remember this? Back in grade school in the early '90s, during the Jim Lee/X-Men era when we were all Marvel fans, this was the big cheese, with all significant characters in the Marvel universe taking a shot at (and dying at the hands of) the titan Thanos.
Sure, they all die, but in the end everything goes back to normal and everyone becomes alive again, so nothing really happened. So while it's still a fun read, the fact that there were no real consequences makes the whole thing seem... gimmicky.
The next graphic novel I read was coincidentally another Jim Starlin book. I got this copy of A Death in the Family
from an uncle who was visiting over the holidays. It was the first edition of the story line, the cover was tattered pretty badly, and the pages were printed on cheap newsprint.
The story itself wasn't so bad. The book is popular among comic book fans because it told the death of Jason Todd, the second Robin. The adventure starts normally enough, giving off the feel of your average superhero romp, with Jason running away to find his real mother and Batman attempting to stop Joker from selling weapons of mass destruction to Arab terrorists.
The book reaches its classic status in the last act, after the death of Jason Todd, as Batman contemplates revenge on Joker. There are a couple of surprise twists near the end, which includes the identity of the person who ultimately stops Batman from committing murder.
Frank Miller worked on Ronin
before he wrote the classic The Dark Knight Returns
. Like DKR, it is set in a bleak future and features the same "dark and gritty" style he used in DKR. The storyline reads very similar to Samurai Jack
, as it tells the story of a ronin, cursed with immortality until he defeats his demon nemesis, being resurrected in the future. Of course, everything is not what it seems.
While the story certainly was no DKR (not even close really), I actually liked Miller's artwork more here than it that one.
Speaking of the Dark Knight, Batman starred in the next book I read, Mark Waid's JLA: Tower of Babel
. Since kicking Superman's ass in DKR, comic book fans have held the belief that Batman can beat any other superhero. This book runs with that idea, as Batman keeps secret files on every member of the League, in case any of them became threats and needed to be neutralized. Unfortunately, the files are stolen by Ra's Al-Ghul's gang, and one-by-one the League's members are taken down.
The storyline is really cool, but reading the book, I was a bit disappointed because it didn't feel as epic as it should have been. Rather, the whole thing played out like a multi-part episode of the Justice League Unlimited
animated series. Not that I'm saying that it wasn't good, because it was very, very good. But it could have been great.
Speaking of the JLU series, the episode For the Man Who Has Everything
(one of the series' best) was adapted from a story included in DC Universe: The Collected Stories of Alan Moore
The gem of the collection is the classic story The Killing Joke
, depicting Joker at his most psychotic, as he puts a bullet through the spine of Barbara Gordon (the former Batgirl, now Oracle) and turns her into a paraplegic, before he uses Commissioner Gordon into a sex slave. Aside from serving up an account of Joker's origin, the story works as a deconstruction of Batman and Joker's relationship, as well as the relationships of heroes and villains in the comic book universe in general.
But for someone who had previously only read Moore's longer work (Watchmen
, V for Vendetta
), the collection for me only affirmed Moore's genius further. I was surprised by the depth, versatility, and talent he was able to show in such a limited space, especially with the diversity of the characters he worked with (Superman, Batman, obscure Green Lantern Corps members, Green Arrow, Vigilante etc.) It was not at all unlike reading a short story collection of a master novelist. Shorter, definitely, but no less brilliant.
I read Arnold Arre's After Eden
a couple of years ago, but I only bought a copy only two weeks ago, when I was in Gateway after watching my favorite basketball team lose a Finals game at the Araneta. Anyway, it was still everything I remember it to be.
It's corny. It's mushy. It's goes for a lot of cheap laughs and "kilig" moments. It's storyline is straight out of a Star-Cinema-presents-Bea-Alonzo-John-Lloyd-Cruz romantic comedy.
I like it.
It's the perfect gift for any person who's ever been in love with a geek.
Roast beef no more
Dinner tonight was a burger and a sandwich from Burger Machine. Here at the Timog area, there's a BM station at every other corner, in the same peculiar way there's a Mini-Stop in every other corner at Ortigas Center. Which is perfect for late nights here at the office, when I'm
having the munchies.
I've actually been craving for a roast beef sandwich since last week, but everytime I go to the nearest BM (the one near Adonis), they always don't have it on stock. So tonight, I went all the way to the one past the GMA-Kamuning MRT station, only for the gay dude behind the counter to tell me that the roast beef sandwich was being phased out of their menu.
Which totally sucks ass! First, they took away the chicken burger (with mushroom sauce), now this! Granted, that was, what, eleven years ago, but still...
Oh, and they also fry their hotdogs now instead of steaming it. Those bastards...
On a totally weird tangent, when I was a kid, I always found that rhyme about five little pigs
rather disturbing. What the fuck was that little pig doing having a roast beef? (Now that I think about it, was he stoned?) I mean, come on... it wouldn't be nice if there were a rhyme about a bull enjoying pork barbecue on skewers, right?