‘Tis the season for hangovers, and as I write this, I am nursing the mother of them all. At the office! Of all places.

I blame my sorry-ass state to those last-minute, late-night beer-and-wine sessions I had with office-mates and college friends. With liquor flowing virtually nonstop from midnight of December 23 to dawn of December 27, no wonder I celebrated Christ’s day in a coma.

The last clear memory I have for December 25, 2009, was jumping off a bus in Nueva Ecija, squinting at the morning sun and dust, and walking toward my second family’s ancestral home where a reunion was raging. Everything after that were like bits n’ pieces of a half-remembered hashish dream. My engine finally conked out noontime.

It was already early evening when I regained consciousness, with my head screaming grand opera and the reunion long over. So much for Christmas 2009.

Multiply friend Isa Pilapil once shared her secret anti-hangover recipe to me, but I lost it somewhere. All I remember is that it includes honey and apple cider vinegar.

The best anti-hangover advice that came my way, though, was from a shot glass given to me by my sister-in-law, Nikki, many Christmases ago. It says: Avoid hangovers, stay drunk.

Why not? I can almost see Jack Kerouac raising his wine jug to that.



Saturday night in Antipolo, while waiting for our roasted pork belly in Shopwise, Charmaine and I discovered the Germans’ secret to happy livers.


Priced less than two cans of the local Red Horse, but twice the wallop. Tastes better, too.

You have to give it to the Krauts. After all, as my wife pointed out, they gave birth to Octoberfest, which is to beer freaks what Wacken Open Air Festival is to heavy metal junkies.

Anyway, it was an eventful weekend we had, with the imported ballbuster providing the proverbial icing on the cake. Even our little Raven, still far from croaking ‘Nevermore’ but getting there fast, was drunk with new experiences.



It’s Friday night and I’m hanging out with Charmaine and her workmates here in their Makati office. There’s home-cooked food and lots of beer, so naturally there’s also the quintessential Filipino pastime: the videoke. From where I sit here in my wife’s cubicle, I can hear somebody belting out a Michael Learns to Rock song outside. Later – or when I’m inebriated enough – I’ll go there and cover CCR’s “Have You Ever Seen the Rain?” Meanwhile, I’ll stay here and listen to Yngwie Malmsteen and his amazing fingers.