new look

Let’s face it, looking at two girls tonguing each other can be a drag, especially if it’s only on pictures. So, a return to the “old look.”

Kissing Booksale’s feet again for this cheap — Php20! — find:

The book’s about the so-called New Journalism Revolution as pioneered by the likes of Tom Wolfe, Norman Mailer and — oh yes! — Hunter S. Thompson. (Blurbs provided by Chuck Klosterman and TC Boyle.) A priority in my reading list, no doubt. Man, I’ve a mountain for a reading backlog, and it just keeps getting higher and higher.

Anyway, back to work now. Back to the same ol’ boring shit – politics, press releases, the fucking Bundy clock. Tomorrow I expect to wake up to the blare of some candidate’s campaign jingle, and that will signal everything that is ugly to me these days.

I wish I’ve a nice vacation story to tell those suntanned assholes who will tell me theirs.

Make no mistake, I enjoyed the three relaxing days with my family. I just wished the three of us were able to go places other than home. Maybe next year.



4 a.m. Maundy Thursday. Just got home from another beer session with office mates and a hellish kamikaze ride from Cubao to Antipolo. Nothing like a jeepney ride like that to take away all the sleep — and alcohol — in my system, so might as well do a little quickie here while I wait for Morpheus to regain control.

Things I intend to do and accomplish within the next three days:

1. Chain-read as always: Finish John Irving’s The 158-Pound Marriage and crack open a new book, which will be a toss between Cormac McCarthy’s No Country for Old Men and that Kerouac-Burroughs collaboration the title of which escapes me now;

2. Get past the 500-page mark of the fourth Harry Potter book. Man, when I started reading this, Charmaine has just found out that she’s pregnant. Now we have a nine-month-old future supermodel and I’m only halfway through this 700-plus-page behemoth;

3. Write, write, and write. Finish at least two chapters of the novel;

4. Download Lamb of God and Testament albums. They’ll be here in 17 days, and like in exams, I need to review;

5. Fix and clean our old room. I slept there the other night, and it’s like sleeping in a hurricane wreck. Plus, I don’t like the moldy, mausoleum-like smell that is starting to develop there;

6. Go biking, preferably after sundown. Not only it does my lungs some great favor, it also helps me think and assess my next move in this crazy little chess game called life;

7. Spend quality time with Charmaine and Raven. The Simpsons marathon, morning trips to the playground, evening conversations over hot Choco Lava;

8. Gear myself up for the return to the boring routine, which for me will start as early as Easter Sunday.


New place, new life. Coming this February.

3 years

Contrary to my observation in high school, girls who like rock music are dime-a-dozen. All of them seem to dig Pearl Jam and the Gin Blossoms,  and some can even tolerate Metallica or Korn. But very few can stretch their boundaries to the dark and sinister dirges of Opeth and Moonspell.

I happen to marry one of them, in the fine cold morning of December 16, 2006, and it’s been a helluva soundtrip ever since. Good music, after all, is best appreciated with another pair of ears beside you.

To Charmaine, here’s to more nights of drinking Rhum-Coke while listening to Alice in Chains and discussing Bradbury.  Thanks for the most wonderful gift you gave me last June 27. May she grow up liking Sentenced.\m/



The most beautiful – and much awaited – two lines for me and my wife.