el niño

necking

The fantaserye that is the May 2010 elections is getting more and more interesting. New twists and turns almost everyday. Just last Wednesday survey favorite Noynoy Aquino suddenly found himself neck and neck with someone who is neck-deep in Jamby Madrigal. He and his backers are probably having nightmares in the afternoon these days.

But you have to give it to Manny Villar. It takes cojones the size of Mindanao to be able to finally show up at the Senate, categorically deny that he’s a coward . . . and then walk out of the hall to avoid being grilled by other senators. Maybe that’s the kind of leader we need: someone who knows curbs and doesn’t give a shit.

This is clean entertainment for me, folks. Clean because it doesn’t involve alcohol, Satanic heavy metal, and bare tits.

As for my bet Gibo Teodoro, well, if Erap has his jeep, and Mar Roxas his pedicab, this dude is banking on an airplane to take him to Malacañang. (I just hope it’s not a Nomad.) Jets, kick-ass aviator glasses, and a stunning wife. That’s rock n’ roll, my friend. The dumb surveys just don’t get it.

And then there’s Nene Pimentel doing a Howard Stern.  I’m not gonna write about his temporary lapse to second childhood last week. Sago boy Lourd de Veyra had already done that and he did a pretty excellent job. All I can say is, the Jabbawockeez are in town . . . and I don’t give a shit.

tats

I am seriously considering getting myself inked. Well, why not?

Charmaine is planning to get one too, just for the heck of it. She’s considering an Opeth logo right above her pelvic bone. She’s also planning to have her nose pierced, which I think rocks. Big Suicide Girls fan here, man.

For me I’ve chosen the following designs:

I’ll have the first one, the Gonzo insignia, placed at the exact same spot as that dude. The second one, the one that looks like a Pepe Smith caricature, is for my right shoulder.

crib

New place, new life. Coming this February.

fornication

“Don’t tell me what to feel. All my fuckin’ life people have been telling me I do things wrong, I’m always the fucking asshole, and I look around and I see everyone else is infinitely more fucked-up than I am.” — Hank Moody (David Duchovny) in Californication

With references to Slayer, Charles Bukowski, Guns N’ Roses, Hunter S. Thompson, Motley Crue, Chuck Palahniuk, Bret Easton Ellis, Judas Priest, the Satanic bible, drunkenness, marijuana, antisocial behavior, erotic writing, sex, sex and more sex — not to mention dozens of boob shots and pumping scenes — Californication is all things Karl (to use Charmaine’s word).

Thanks Don Robert for the DVD.

A favorite scene from the first season:

It was indeed an eventful weekend I had. Aside from Californication marathon, I was also able to spend quality “mall hours” with the two prettiest ladies in my life, Charmaine and Raven; restock my MP3 player with freshly downloaded shit from Dream Evil, Mercenary, Dragonforce, Iron Maiden, and Moonspell; trip on some jazz-rock courtesy of Steely Dan (again, thanks Don Robert); and catch up on my reading (juggling Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Margaret Atwood is crazy, but what the hell).

Can’t wait for the next weekend to fornicate some more.

devil years

The years 2004 and 2005 were metal years for me. I got involved in NU 107’s Metal Madness (now history, but the noisiest shit on Philippine radio back then), and was frequenting those smoky Malate hellholes with then girlfriend Charmaine for our live metal fix. Except for our marriage and the birth of Raven Lee, none of the things that happened to us in the succeeding years can be compared to what transpired in those 24 months of beer-soaked heavy metal abandon. The only weird thing was my hair.

‘harry, look at me’

Elmore Leonard first knocked me out with Killshot, now a movie I am yet to see. Then it was Rum Punch, which Hollywood turned into Jackie Brown — the uber cool Samuel L. Jackson playing Ordell Robbie, saying, “My ass maybe dumb, but I ain’t no dumbass!”

After reading Get Shorty and getting floored by it, I am now officially considering myself a big Elmore Leonard fan. Meaning I will suck up anything this dude puts up, including grocery lists.

Which brings to mind a girl I had the pleasure of sharing an FX ride with in 2007. A young pretty thing in tennis shorts and ponytail, she had Pagan Babies on her delectable lap. The only unsightly thing was this gym-chiseled white arm wrapped around her shoulders. This metrosexual type dude I make for a StarStruck reject practically all over her. Some lucky asshole.

My ears highly trained on eavesdropping came to work.

“What’s that?” the bozo asked, fingering the dog-eared paperback. “The book I’m currently reading,” she said, sing-song voice and all. The guy made a face as if something squirmed in his ass. “I can’t stand books,” he said. “All those letters.” Said it just like that, the guy clueless — or perhaps proud — of what a dumb oversized cockroach he was. Nailing his coffin, he said:  “I rather dance.”

Something squirmed in my gut.

Some girls don’t deserve their guys.

why he stinks

This shit, scavenged from Facebook, made my day.

at the record bar

H.I.M.’s Dark Light album was the last thing I expected to see when I went to Landmark in Makati last Friday on my way to Charmaine’s office, but there it was, staring back at me, enigmatic cover and all, promising late night “Vampire Heart” soundtrip.

I texted Charmaine about it. “Guess what . . .” In two minutes she was standing beside me going, “Oh my!” My wife, big Ville Vallo fan, not believing the H.I.M. album in front of her. “Santa’s a metalhead!,” she said. And my collection became one CD richer.

Addendum: Saw some interesting local releases from 3 Inches of Blood, Down, Cavalera Conspiracy, Still Remains, Dragonforce, Machine Head, Airborne, Cradle of Filth, etc . . . But at Php650 each I find them too outrageously priced for my malnourished wallet. I’m licking my lips at Slayer’s World Painted Blood, though, which is only Php390.

april 17

Mark your calendar. This one will hurt.

Click photos for details.