Cubao was the most glorious place in Manila decades ago, and it is a stonethrow away from where I grew up. Fiesta Carnival, ShoeMart, Araneta Coliseum.

I was born in 1982, seven years after Muhammad Ali came to the Philippines to fight Joe Frazier in the heart of Cubao.

After his big victory, the Aranetas decided to build a mall that will immortalize his legacy and remind Filipinos of his historical visit. It was called (no kidding) Ali Mall. I spent my childhood walking around Ali Mall, holding Mama Becky's hand as we shopped for school supplies at National Bookstore, ballet costumes at Yvonne's, and gift items at Papemelrotti.

To date, Muhammad Ali is weak and old, but he is still much celebrated in the world of boxing. While I cannot say the same thing about Ali Mall --- now there's a more sosyal Gateway nearby and a lot of other places in Makati and Taguig --- despite the efforts of the Aranetas to revive its glory, I know I will still visit it. In fact last year when I was in Manila I did go there with my family. Starbucks. Plains and Prints. Nike. All the nice things that city people want have set up shop there. But is it enough to outlive the legacy of the boxer it was built for?

On a different note, at that time we already had Flash Elorde. That is why now Elorde Boxing Gym is very popular back home, because many yuppies and kolehiyalas aspire to have a slice of the action and noise created by the rise of this great Filipino boxer. If you say that you are working out at Elorde, that means you are getting hardcore street training. It means you will learn boxing and not tae bo. That means you will learn from people who learned from General Santos, a province down South where all the great Pinoy boxers hail from.

And then right nor there is Manny Pacquiao, who beat the shit out of Dela Joya, Morales and recently, Hatton. As he prepares to fight Cotto, the whole nation awaits his nth victory. And I await the slow demise of Ali Mall as the rest of Cubao remains resilient.

I am left wing, right brained.
I am sunny, cool swinging.
I am feisty, sheepish.
I am foreign, at home.
I am chocolate, vanilla.
Thrilla in Manila.

I am square, with a flair.
I am floating, free flying.
I am cuckoo, controlled.
I am quiet, mic hogging.
I am bland, all flavors.
Go tell the neighbors.

I am sleepy, eyes open.
I am doodling, deep thinking.
I am awkward, scene stealer.
I am exhausted, energizer bunny.
I am stinky, if you smell me.
All yours if you steal me!

Evian Roller Babies international version

Sugarhill Gang - Rapper's Delight

I first heard this song in the movie The Wedding Singer. This is really funky. This was probably in the mid to late 70'sbecause the people in the video looked really old school, but rap was beginning to gain ground in the music scene in the US. The lyrics are dope. This has got to be one of the longest songs I have listened to, but it's fun to sing and dance along to it. Try it!

Lady Gaga - Poker Face (Piano Version)

Skinny Bitching

I'm reading this book called Skinny Bitch for the second time.
It's a light read, and it's quite funny.
It's essentially a self-help book on how to eat healthy, but it's tough love at its fiercest.
I like how they don't sugar coat (pun intended) the truth about two things:
the bad stuff in the food we eat (even what we believe to be the healthiest meal could be the devil), and how girls really feel about their bodies.
The dirty politics that has been going on in the food industry for decades.
Business tycoons in the sugar and meat industries rake millions of dollars from fooling consumers, never mind the fact that what they are putting on the shelves of supermarkets from California all the way to Manila are either killing people of making them grossly obese.
Skinny Bitch gives you the lowdown on healthy eating and living.

Having said that, I don't think I am ready to become 100% vegan.
I like my occasional chocolate treat and I can't resist to heed my craving for salty chips.
And I will never ever give up drinking. The book recommends organic wine sans sulfites.
Where the hell would I get that on a Thursday night, when I am dying of alcohol thirst and there are very limited options for buying booze?
So as much as I enjoy skinny bitchin', I am only absorbing parts of the book.
Take carbs, for example. I can now tell the good from the bad, and I try to stay away from the bad of course. That's easy. Goodbye rice, hello couscous.
And I am seeing the effects.
I am losing weight in a healthy manner, plus I am encouraged to work out all the time.
And of course, as the books says, there's nothing more gratifying than taking a big steamy dump.

they are hunting me down
i am in my quiet corner
trying to write a melody
and a cat ran through they alley
and jumps on me
i am sipping my favorite tea
trying to find something to do
and a midget dances his way
towards where i calmly sit
there are demons in the manhole
for every temptress on the pavement
they are ready to attack
so i run for cover
in a shaded part of town
it's the heat
it's the boredom
it's about time they arrived

I would like to see the old Manila.
I joined a group on Facebook that had all sorts of photos of my city, when it was covered in grandeur and adorned with beautiful people.
The ports, the modest Spanish-inspired buildings, the women with their abanicos.
Circa 50's, 60's.
I obviously didn't get to see the city in all its glory.
I was born in 1982, when the martial law was about to end in a few years.
I was born under the Marcos regime, when just before his great fall.
I remember seeing people wearing yellow Ninoy shirts when I was three, chanting endlessly in the hope of achieving change.
Now as I look back, I can only sigh.
There were lots of chances for change.
Lots of opportunities given to lots of people to make things right.
The freedom that we aspired and attained through peaceful means is now blurred by a lot of other things that came with it - corruption, nepotism, the spread of prostitution and drugs, and the mounting garbage that we do not know where to dump.
Manila, my Manila.
When I come home in December, I will still look for a calesa to hop on and a big serving of palitaw.
I will still stroll on the streets and say hi to the shirtless children on the pavements.
But will pinch my nose before the stink reminds me of how bad the once magnificent place has become.

McDonald's Rap - Shea Sibling Remix

I came across this guy on youtube named Jimmy Shea. He's a US marine and he makes all kinds of videos about himself. But I especially like his vids with his siblings. They're cute. I remember when Zoe was 5 and I used to teach her how to rap. That was funny. She almost memorized Agent Orange by Slapshock. I know. I feel like a dork now.

If it's only possible to Alt-tab your way out of trouble.
Like, if your wife walks in on you and another woman getting it on in your bedroom, you could just press a few buttons and make the image of you and your mistress intertwined between the sheets disappear just like that.
Then you could give your wife a welcome kiss without guilt or that dumb look that gives away your lack of better words to say.
Computers are probably smarter that us.
What do you say?

McDonald's is addictive.
I braved the burning heat to get myself an Egg McMuffin breakfast meal.
Shit.
I am going to jog it off later, but right now, after devouring all that rubbish topped with ketchup, I feel like a pig.
Tomorrow I am going on a health check and take my BP.
Let's see if my heart is normal.
My heart's always been normal, save for special occasions.
So back to McDonalds.
I remember watching Supersize Me and loathing the fast food chain.
But when I see the big M, Ronald smiling at me like he's the best friend I never had, and smell the aroma of deep fried chemical-induced burger patties, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and order away.

The McDonalds Rap

Boom, Boom Boom Big Mac
Boom, Boom Boom Big Mac(this is the beat for the song...)
I need a double cheeseburger and hold the lettuce
Don't be frontin' son no seeds on a bun
We be up in this drive thru, order for two
I gots a craving for a number nine like my shoe
We need some chicken up in here
In this dizzle
For rizzle my nizzle
Extra salt on the frizzle
Dr. Pepper my brother
Another for your mother
Double double super size
And don't forget the FRIES......................
Crispy

Marine Beatbox Battle - JimmyDShea vs. Ollie Hand

found this on youtube and thought it was awesome and hilarious

Happiness is...

1. Jimmy D'Shea giving me swimming tips on youtube.
2. Roy's cow-like build.
3. The mystery of Bernie's gender.
4. The badass chicks at the karaoke bar.
5. Haodong suggesting I sing Qing Fei Dei Yi.
6. A half-eaten McDonald's breakfast meal.
7. Raffling off Roy to the runaways maids.
8. Interviewing a lesbian couple at the shelter.
9. Accomplishing my errands for Kenya and Clarky.
10. Running at sunset.
11. Dissecting Fifi's unfounded fears at Spinney's Karama at 3 in the morning.
12. Doing the Rico Mambo no matter what song is playing.
13. My new phone!
14. Hearing my mom say I was a good kid.
15. Not getting smashed at Hibiki but still having a good time.
16. Falling asleep anytime. Anywhere.
17. Listening to 80s pop, late 90's Pinoy alternative, and all my favorite bands.
18. Roy crossing over to the third sex.
19. Roy's English.
20. The absence of RTA on holidays.
21. My much awaited Kenya trip. Lions on my birthday! Yay!

I wish someone would throw a Pinoy 80s party.
Bagets, Regal Babies, That's Entertainment.

The last 80s party I attended was awesome.
I went as Cynthia Patag and everyone thought I looked like her.
Her trademark, aside from her annoying voice, was the big ribbon on her apple-cut hair.
Unfortunately I realized that at the last minute, when I was putting on my leggings.
So started panicking and going through my stuff.
Mostly rubbish.
And then I saw something that could make a nice big ribbon and complete my Cynthia look.
It was the only clean object in my bag.
I stared at it for a looong time and debated whether to use it or not.
It was clean. It was bright green. Very 80s.
I had to make a move.
Time was running out.
So I took out the sanitary pad from its wrapper, tied the wrapper in the middle and attached an elastic to it. I got rid of the pad and placed the plastic ribbon neatly on my hair.
Voila. Cynthia Patag.

At my next 80s party, I would probably do something of that sort.
Maybe with a tampon?

I'm On A Diet Again

I am on a diet.
A very successful one.
I am working out, eating healthy, and drinking lots of water.
Most importantly, I am having fun.

I've gone on thousands of diets before.
I was a chubby kid.

I remember when I was 15 I ate paper to feel full.
I ate my quiz papers.
Crumpled them, put them in my mouth,
wet them with my saliva, and swallowed them.
Then I flushed them with a liter of warm water.

I also went on a crash diet a few weeks before the prom.
I ate one Jelly Ace every day.
I didn't lose much, but I became so ugly and dumb.
Come prom night, I was exhausted.
I wore a really tight girdle that I though I'd pass out.
The sides of my pretty silver dress were stained with sweat from my armpits.
And I had to steal a shawl to cover them up.

I became a sell out in college, when I started trying laxatives.
In my opinion, taking something that everyone else is taking defeats the whole purpose of trying to stand out from the crowd.
But at that time it seemed like there was no other option.
So I swallowed those pills. Pill after pill.
All the toilets I "visited" were cursed.

So 12 years later, I am trying to make amends.
And I am doing a great job.
There is no better feeling in the world than knowing that I am not killing myself in the process of trying to live a happy life.

A group of scientists in England claim to have created sperm out of leftover stem cells from an IVF treatment.
So the sterile men can eventually shop for sperm.
It does not only give males with "uncultivated" reproductive systems a chance to have children of their own.
It also makes women feel that they have a choice.
Their children need not look like their dad.
Or think or act like their dad.
I think it's excellent.
Say goodbye to the old adage "Like father, like son".
So a little retail therapy can actually lead to having a family. What's up. That's crazy.

You never know what to expect when you actually purchase sperm.
If I were to do that (I wish I wish I would never ever have to, Jesus please), I would choose the COOOOL kind.
I want my kid to dance and sing and rap and play the guitar and piano and paint and sculpt.
I want my baby to have the cutest smile and the most contagious laugh.
I want my children to come from the best kind of sperm.

My eggs are not perfect, but they're way cooler than others'.

I am so amused at the Cherry Lou fight we had today.
It was so random but I just wanted to fight.
I just thought, hey, it's been a while since I fought with someone and it would to me good to just let all my anger out in one sitting.
So I did.
Thank you for getting angry and really letting me have it.
It was a good emotional exercise!
So I hope Cherry Lou is happy because I am in cloud 9.

I kept it running
Like a well-oiled machine
Until they found me out
It has little to do
With what it seems
I never had a doubt

My feet remain calm
My hands don't shake
I won't flee the scene
I had reasons to stay
And go all the way
Piece of cake

Small tragedies make pleasant surprises
The same is true the other way around
So I twist my fate, twist your arm
One look and I know I shut it down

The best presents come unwrapped
Good thing I'm not a patient girl
My fantasies remain untapped
My second voice still unheard

Bless my mind for it has sinned
I'm going down with my secret whims
Swimming in my stomach all this time
Along with butterflies and senseless rhymes

The Drinking Game

I grabbed the bottle and chugged it down.
And I thought I lost my mind for a second.
I tried to stay away from it but it calls my name.
And it happens again, round after round.
The bitter after taste makes me nauseous.
And the thought of pouring another glass frightens me.
But it's the only way to spend the day.
And it's the only thing that I want to have.
It sits on the table idly, waiting for me.
I glance at it and it stares at me.
I wait for it to shout my name.
And again begins the drinking game.