fields of gold

i've got grandpa syndrome.

while reading a back issue of details, i chanced upon the article, and it sort of amused and horrified me.

several indicators i think, matched me up to the syndrome, which i totally find hilarious.

- i find most bars too noisy.
- i sometimes talk excitedly about what a good deal i got on a purchase.
- i carry tissue (only if i carry a bag).
- i look over my shoulder at the atm.
- i'm terrified of, not turned on by, tila tequila.

not that i'm afraid of growing old. i welcome it.

but the article was just too funny for words!

scandal galore

i really don't understand what the big hoot is about the belo-kho-halili scandal.

i mean, just the conglomeration of their last names alone makes me giggle.

say it again. belokhohalili. makes me think of halitosis.

so they had sex.

so they made a sex tape.

so it was released.

in hollywood, it's how one becomes known. paris hilton wouldn't be paris if her sexual romp with the hung rick salomon didn't "accidentally" leak out.

who else? pamela anderson and tommy lee. colin farrell. kim kardashian. though there were those others who released their sex tapes, didn't take, and their careers became major flops, pardon the pun. it's how people fuel their careers, to become bigger celebrities than they are.

we can't deny it. it's done its purpose. the whole country is in uproar over it. also, please note the correct usage of "it's" and "its" in the same sentence.

i've seen the hayden videos. nothing groundbreaking. just a hot guy having sex with some girl. if they were doing the dirty sanchez, now that would be something else.

and so the wheel turns

i took another online test.

and it's fun.

plus i love the card that showed up. dragon, phoenix, tiger, and turtle.

and i totally agree with its symbolism.

what goes around comes around.

sometimes you're up, sometimes you're down.

very me.

char.

You are The Wheel of Fortune

Good fortune and happiness but sometimes a species of
intoxication with success

The Wheel of Fortune is all about big things, luck, change, fortune. Almost always good fortune. You are lucky in all things that you do and happy with the things that come to you. Be careful that success does not go to your head however. Sometimes luck can change.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

mirror, mirror, on that wall...

holy crap!

while reading mcvie's blog, i checked this out.

kinda true, the way i see myself. but not sure that this is how others see me.

but either way, it's a very very easy online test. i did it less than five minutes.

radio gaga

i'm still behind on catching up on my sleep. yes, i'm one of those people who count sleep debt.

i should have known that a night out with bubz meant the following: coffee, massage, and then downing bottles of beer at the bar.

not that there's anything wrong with it. well, maybe a little. if i am going to age, i want to age well. and bubz's routine is not the way to do it. lol.

well, massage is one way. coffee is okay too. the bar scene can be okay. but not all mixed up in one night.

a few nights ago, bubz laid it out for us. by us, i meant bernz and me. it was to be in the following order: coffee, then massage, then the bars.

i was slightly disappointed that the spa we were going to was the birdland. it was not a spa that i was expecting to have a relaxing wholesome massage. and i was not wrong. the therapist assigned to me was a hustler. quick to cut to the chase, he almost immediately massaged my balls, then my cock, and asked if i wanted a happy ending.

no, i said firmly. i'm not here for that, i wanted to add, and your fingernails are too long and remind me of a woman's hands. but i kept quiet.

i glanced at the time. he spent less than 40 minutes 'massaging' me. but what did i expect at this place? i would've probably changed my mind if the therapist was hot. but he wasn't.

and he kept disturbing my nap by tweaking my nipples. it was annoying. but i slept for a bit anyway. in short, the massage i got was terrible.

good thing that i was able to accumulate points that it turned out free.

bernz joined me afterwards, all quiet and contemplative. god knows what went on his mind. bubz took longer. i could only guess what went on inside, as he was the first to get in his cubicle yet the last to come out.

let's go for a nightcap, bubz said.
yeah right, nightcap, i thought while rolling my eyes. i knew what it meant. it meant going to the bar and drinking beer and cruising. ugh.

so there we were, bubz, bernz, and me at the bar. having that 'nightcap', according to bubz. i now have very low tolerance for alcohol, unlike when i was in my teens. and soon i was flushed. maybe it was the redness of my face that caught the attention of several people. but let's be clear. i wasn't there to pick up guys. i was there out of respect to bubz, who does this ritual each and every time we go out. it never changes. and i was insane to think it would.

one guy was bolder than the other 3, and came over. you're cute, he said, and would it be okay if he went home with me. and mind you, he wasn't fugly.

but i was not in the mood for one night stands, so i just smiled back at him and said, maybe another time.

he smiled, and leaned in. when you go home, let me know, because i want to make sure you get home safely, he said.

sure, i said. and i turned around to face my inquisitors.

why'd you let him go? bubz wailed as not-fugly guy left.
i'm not here to pick up guys for one night stands, i retorted.
who said it was? it could be the start of something beautiful, bubz insisted with a vehement shake of his head.
bernz merely smiled inscrutably.
bubz rolled his eyes.
hurry up and finish those bottles and let's get out of here, i shot back at bubz.
not before you do something with not-fugly guy, bubz glared.
fine, i'll kiss him when we leave, i said, now hurry up!

and so i did kiss not-fugly guy when we left fifteen minutes later, but not before he asked for my number. i had the feeling i gave him the wrong number. i was sleepy and slightly intoxicated. i think i scared him off by kissing him impulsively. lol.

bernz insisted i was drunk. i like to say i was tipsy. bubz went off to go to another bar, being the social bar-fly that he is. as we stood in the taxi lane, i noticed 2 guys looking at bernz and me. one was sort of cute, with a ponytail. he came over, but i looked away, so he ended up talking to bernz. turns out, they were asking where a club called the host 78 was.

i've heard it was nearby but i've never been. a third guy overheard them, and joined the other 2. bernz gave instructions, and they went off and got into a taxi. being tipsy, i called bubz immediately.

i remember you wanted to go to the host and review it, i said.
yes i did, he replied.
well, it's nearby, so you wanna go?
wait for me.

so there we were, inside the place. turns out to be one of those macho dancing clubs, but without dicks showing, hard or otherwise. and the men? not really my type. a little too short, a little too trendy, and not muscular at all. the guys that had asked for directions turned out to be macho dancers called in to audition, and were done auditioning by the time we arrived.

some queens were there, obviously enjoying the show, with a few of the dancers at their table. the curvaceous floor manager sashayed over in a scandalously scarlet dress.

which ones do you fancy? she intoned in a deep voice to bubz.
bubz smiled and shook his head.
just sit there and i'll have them all go to the stage and you can pick from there, she commanded.

there were none that we fancied.

and the whole place was too... ho-hum. it wasn't exciting. it wasn't even hip. i think i saw old-fashioned ruffled curtains. a few framed artwork hung on the rough cement wall. i guess they were not allowed to paint over the wall. one of the wall hangings was a framed needlepoint of a ballerina. there was also a framed poster of mickey mouse. maybe they're some sort of metaphor to the penis? i didn't get it though.

if it were up to me, i'd have painted the whole walls black (or scarlet red), put in mirrored walls onstage, get some metallic accents and phallic decor. and no blacklights at all. get hot wait staff. and more diverse dancers. the beer was expensive. san mig light at 85?

someone should finally open a dance club here that has hot men in their underwear dancing in cages, i thought for the millionth. but would the concept be too western for us pinoys?

we stayed at the place for 30 minutes and then we left to go home.

having stumbled home at 3 in the morning, i made a half-assed attempt at sleeping soundly. but i failed and merely closed my eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness. and all too soon, i woke up at 6, with still a buzz on and my mouth tasting like a rat died inside.

all in all, the whole affair left me a little hung over, a little exhausted, and a little ambiguous.

the art of gagaism

"Some people didn't get it. Some people still don't get it. I read reviews sometimes and I'm like, 'Wow, that guy really doesn't fucking like me.' Like, they really don't get it, but that's cool. You've got to create some kind of stir. You've got to say something that's got to upset some people, and that's the risk-taking that makes music so fun. The real struggle is that they didn't want to play my music on the radio. We fought and we fought and I played every club. I had chicken dinner with every program director I could get my hands on. The turning point for me was the gay community. I've got so many gay fans and they're so loyal to me and they really lifted me up. They'll always stand by me and I'll always stand by them. It's not an easy thing to create a fanbase. … Being invited to play [the San Francisco Pride rally], that was a real turning point for me as an artist."

- The Lady tells MTV News about last year, 2008, before the world's current GaGa obsession

disturbia

i've often wondered what death would look like. i've run its images through my imagination thousands of times.

haven't we all?

when i was little, i used to think death as a huge monstrous beast. dark, hairy, menacing. growling through sharp teeth, its dank breath issuing poisonous fumes as its beady red eyes glowed at me in the dark. i imagined it would hide and scurry in the shadows, afraid of the light. a creature of the dark, a hound from hell. persephone's pet. i imagined it tore the soul of the very being it was sent to kill, shredding its victim's soul to pieces before it allowed the bits to drift down into the dark earth, where it would eventually be swallowed into a pit of wailing souls.

when i was able to read, i imagined death as the familiar hooded and cloaked figure, silent and grim, and as merciless as the scythe it wielded. this time, i imagined death walked among the living, neither seen or heard, but always felt. it did not fear sun or shade, but welcomed it. i figured it saw into every person it met, and it waited for a visit until the person was deemed to die.

as an adult, i began to think of death not as an enemy, but a partner of life. it was not merciless, but only performed a function that we all needed to go through. be it a death of a relationship, a pet, or even a flower. death is not grim. it is not a monster. death shakes our comfortable lives and allows us to remember that we must live as if we were about to die.

suddenly, i rethought all i knew about death yesterday. passing by a funeral procession, i strangely associated death as a woman. as a woman, death could be very heartbreakingly seductive and alluring. she could also be beautifully clothed in scorn and fury. yet she could also be merciful and excruciatingly kind as she tells brutal truths and menacing lies. doing all this while wearing 4-inch heels or fashionable flats.

she breathed life to her children,
for sisterhood among the brethren.
smooth and supple, her old skin could be.
aged and wise, her blind eyes will see.
her cold lips, luscious and red,
warmly speak of nothing but our death.

so, why not death as a woman?

gold digger

we know the type. usually belonging to the lower strata of society, whose favorite past time is bettering themselves by leeching onto decrepit old men who can provide them with fake louis vuitton purses.

but i'm not talking about whores in the strictest sense of the word, who simply spread their legs once they receive cash.

i'm talking about the new breed of bitches, who study english or nihonggo and caregiving in the hopes of meeting that foreigner gullible enough to sully their hands with such vermin.

profile:

age: teens to early 30's

physical features: usually dark skinned to attract caucasian (and some asian) men, although there are rare cases of heavily bleached skin ones, with long rebonded hair which they toss in the air to appear seductive to their victims

tell-tale signs: fashion victim, or more appropriately, fashion roadkill usually sporting garish make-up and imitation designer bags to go with their version of the latest trends

where to find them: online chats, the french baker (sm city cebu)

usual story: poor provincial lass in the harsh city making a living to support her large family depending on her, looking to find someone she can exploi - oops, i meant love, who can support her dreams of a better life.

usual outcome: she lives with and marries the foreigner, supporting her extended family, but eventually gets dropped by the foreigner when he discovers she has been keeping and supporting a not-so-rich but virile male lover, who can satisfy her sexually, on the side who eventually lives with her in squallor and shame.

i spotted the latest specie yesterday, and i wonder what her problem is with me. she seemed to want to attract my attention by constantly going out of her way to irritate me.

either she likes me or envies me. fortunately, i don't care for her that much. it just amazed me that i seemed to bring out the claws of insecure women everywhere without doing anything much at all.

one thing i realized though. in a world where women think they rule, these rabid gold diggers ought to be rounded up and put to sleep forever by their own genders.

let the hunt begin.

when models talk

while perusing the quite limited channels of interest on cable tv, i chanced upon a "real" local show with a model as a host.

truth be told, she was rather pretty and delightful, if one turned off the volume.

perhaps the head honchos thought that just having a pretty face is enough to host a tv show.

no.

one needs charm and tact, and definitely a more tolerable voice.

but wait, maybe it's not entirely the girl model's fault. the editors also have to be blamed for letting the show come out like that.

i could tell she was trying to be witty, charming, and informative. i think she's been trying for over a year without success. or maybe she really is all that. but it just didn't come across as such.

the funny thing about this local channel is that they are trying to promote a hip style. but their style is a little lacking. maybe it has to do with their vision of what exactly is hip.

i've seen other good segments before while flipping through the channels, but oh my. overall it's a little sad.

and if what i heard about the late salary payments is true, i can't blame the employees either if they turned out lackluster products due to ill feelings.

i was happy to know one thing: i could switch the channel.

which i did after a minute of her inane chattering with a human resource personnel from a call center company.

i love remote controls.

again, what's in a name?

this is what my real name supposedly says about me as a person:

You are very intuitive and wise. You understand the world better than most people.
You also have a very active imagination. You often get carried away with your thoughts.
You are prone to a little paranoia and jealousy. You sometimes go overboard in interpreting signals.

You are friendly, charming, and warm. You get along with almost everyone.
You work hard not to rock the boat. Your easy going attitude brings people together.
At times, you can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, you pull it together.

You are relaxed, chill, and very likely to go with the flow.
You are light hearted and accepting. You don't get worked up easily.
Well adjusted and incredibly happy, many people wonder what your secret to life is.

You are the total package - suave, sexy, smart, and strong.
You have the whole world under your spell, and you can influence almost everyone you know.
You don't always resist your urges to crush the weak. Just remember, they don't have as much going for them as you do.

You are well rounded, with a complete perspective on life.
You are solid and dependable. You are loyal, and people can count on you.
At times, you can be a bit too serious. You tend to put too much pressure on yourself.

this is what trey supposedly is as a person:

and this is how i think i am:

You are very intuitive and wise. You understand the world better than most people.
You also have a very active imagination. You often get carried away with your thoughts.
At times, you can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, you pull it together.

You are the total package - suave, sexy, smart, and strong.
You have the whole world under your spell, and you can influence almost everyone you know.
You don't always resist your urges to crush the weak. Just remember, they don't have as much going for them as you do.

You are a seeker. You often find yourself restless - and you have a lot of questions about life.
You are wild, crazy, and a huge rebel. You're always up to something.
You are a free spirit, and you resent anyone who tries to fence you in.

You are unpredictable, adventurous, and always a little surprising.
You may miss out by not settling down, but you're too busy having fun to care.

whatchu think?

more, more, more

i just came from a wedding reception. well, it was a more intimate reception than the usual.

the wedding was at 7:30 in the morning. formal reception at lunch. then a more informal reception at dinner.

then the inevitable question came. when are you getting married and having kids?

precisely why i avoid weddings.

for one thing, i don't like children. and yes, i'm still single. and no, i want a husband, not a wife.

the past few days have been serendipitous. while enriching the back story of my humanoid demon character, i came upon a greek god's tale that echoed his story. so i am going to use the greek god angle. and lord knows i love greek myths. i'm surprised i didn't think of it sooner.

i'm up to page 33. i'm not so happy with the way the story has been unfolding, and i think i shall be editing the next few days.

two girls, a guy, and a coffee shop

i happened to meet two girl friends within 24 hours.

one was a friend from high school who married an ex-officemate of mine, without me knowing about it until a chance conversation. she was conditioned to see life negatively, and it just pains me to see her so down on herself.

we happened to talk about relationships, and she proposed that perhaps i was commitment phobic.

and perhaps it is true. i am afraid of falling.

i told this to my bestest friend. we had a grand old time catching up, dissecting ourselves and dreaming of travails and travels.

ah. lovely walks in paris, lunch in greece, and tea in london.

then our phones rang and we got back to our real world.

wandering thoughts

pregnant women freak me out. i always think they're about to give birth in front me, and i have to help them give birth.

the fact that i actually know the words to some sappy tagalog love songs (bakit nga ba mahal kita, kahit di pinapansin ang damdamin ko, di mo man ako mahal, eto parin ako nagmamahal nang tapat sa yo?) has me totally rolling on the floor laughing...

irritations:

women with their long hair free who sit beside me in jeepneys or stand near me, tossing their stiff rebonded manes like they're starring in shampoo commercials. in reality, they look more like insecure aswangs in the daylight. i wish i always brought a pair of scissors with me. all the time.

fat women who think they're not fat and squeeze in with you. don't you find that a little claustrophobic?

or trannies who brush up against you. it's not that i don't like trannies. i just don't like people i'm not attracted to, to be touching me. i end up dusting myself involuntarily. it's a mental thing. i might need a shrink.

copycats. from the most obvious pinoy movies/telenovelas (think: desperadas) to the remakers of hit sappy love songs (think: crazy for you/especially for you/love moves in mysterious ways). though i get it. remakes can be hot. just don't overdo it. fyi... loving darren haye's cover of madonna's dress you up in my love.

salespeople who tell me this celebrity wears this item and uses this product. say those magic words, and you'll have lost me. good bye.

women who think they deserve special service just because they exist as women. listen. you wanted equal rights. you can't have it both ways. you can't wear pants and expect people to treat you as if you were wearing gowns. of course, i can be a gentleman to ladies i like. just not to delusional ragdolls with diva attitudes. i can be one too, you know. (LOL)

i just thought of this. late, flaky, disrespectful narcissists.

disappointments:

the series moonlight. i hate it. the story is so scattered, the dialogue is so predictable, and the characters are so boring. i sooo regret buying it.

inspirations:

the beach. forests. animals. nature.

simplicity. ostentatiousness. luxury. opposites. yin and yang.

color. texture. smell. taste. music.

friends. creativity. humor. optimism.

fruits.

the occult. magic. spirituality.

food. food shows.

good furniture. design shows. appliances.

love/hate them:

clothing trends. however baduy they can be. some can be darling (skinny jeans). some are just plain crazy (bomber jackets in the philippines?).

fried food. chicken. ngohiong. bulaklak.

gadgets. i love the mac air. though sometimes i wish i weren't so techy. it can be hard and expensive to keep up.

teenage love affair

while aboard a jeepney, a gaggle of giggling, barely-legal girls in skintight short shorts got on with a couple of older ladies.

it was obvious they just came from an internet cafe.

girl1: it was fun!
lady1: yeah, you liked it?
girl1 and girl2 (chorus): yes!
lady1: you want him for a boyfriend? i can give him to you instead of girl 4.
girl3: i want one too! i've never had one before!
lady2: yes, but we'll have to find another one for you, he thought you were too young.
lady1: yes, he'll have a problem with visa, that's what he said.
girl1: the guy was strange.
girl2: that's what happens when the guy is old.
girl4: i don't want to live in the states. i want japanese men! they seem rich.
lady2: japanese men are difficult. they require a meet up before you marry.
lady1: yes, unlike americans. they can process everything even before you meet.

my stop came and i left the girls while they argued on who's getting the next international vict - er, i meant, man.

and here i thought romance was dead.

the way

one of my close friend's sister recently got married.
i'm no fan of weddings, specially when i know the crowd it brings.

nothing really wrong with the people, it's just that being a gay fil-chi is a bit harder in cebu's chinese society, where everybody knows everybody.

and being gay used to be such a big scandalous taboo for most traditional families.

thank god mine isn't that close-minded. not anymore.
i know of several gay fil-chi guys who were forced to get married by their family.
revisiting the traditional fil-chi world was much needed though.
i sat with some friends and began catching up.

it made me remember my high school days (and nights).
our clique at high school was a little strange for many, but it made sense to us.

there was the geek, the socialite, the bugoy, the couple, the jock, the bitch, the crush, the brat, and more.
it was so varied, and we all were in different classrooms.

the teachers all tried to separate us each year, but we still stuck through all four years - and even until now.

anyway, our group at the wedding was now a little incestuous.
bb, one of my high school crushes, was now married.
his wife is the sister-in-law of another mutual close friend, who happens to be a younger sister of my sister's best friend.
bb was a part of a group of rich bugoys, two of which were brothers, who were my crushes too.
one of the brothers is married to another friend's ex.
yes, incestuous.

come to think of it, most of my crushes were the bugoys, and i used to hang with them too.
it was pretty cool. they were all these straight guys who would talk about who had nailed which girl.
they were the ones who gave me my first porn, my first drink, and my first wet dream.

and then there was that one guy, gary.
he wasn't my type at all, even though he was big and bearish. but boy, did he pamper me.
i like to think he secretly liked me.
i mean, he used to ask me if he could drive me home after going out.
and he would hold my hand while talking to me and making me lean my back against him.
on second thought, i think he did like me.

i know this happens in an all-boys' school, but it's extremely rare in a co-ed high school.
anyway, graduation came and i left high school a virgin in every sense of the word.
i guess it's just one of those phases where people experiment.

the clapping of the parishioners brought me back to the present.
i went to kiss the bride happiness, and i went out to find bb in his new luxury pick-up.

"hey trey, you want me to drop you off at your place after i bring the girls home?"
"nah, it's okay. my place is just a five-minute walk away."
"are you sure?"
"yep!"
i grinned and left.

spiderwebs

i recently chatted with lp, my friend and ex-officemate.
she had been getting depressed lately, mainly because of her ex.

it's the usual story.

girl (that's her) meets bum (that's him).
girl improves bum's self-esteem, career, and life.
bum becomes boy.
boy professes love to the girl.
girl moves in with boy despite everyone's misgivings.
before they know it, it's been 6 years.
boy's promising career brings him to manila.
girl stays in cebu.
boy meets another girl (let's call her "bitch").
bitch tells boy she's pregnant.
boy breaks up with girl.
girl is devastated.
boy supports bitch all throughout pregnancy and birth.
girl is still hung up on boy.
boy wants girl back.
bitch wants them apart.

lp confided that she had been drinking to numb her pain.
i didn't know what to tell her.
we both know alcoholism isn't the answer.
but it's her temporary solution.
i get her.

i reminded her that it's still her who's going to end up the loser if she keeps this up.
that she's going to end up a wreck if this continues.
that she better move on.
that she's better off without him.
she retorted, "you don't know what it's like."

that stopped me short.

true.
i don't know what it's like to fall deeply in love.
i don't know what it's like to commit your soul to someone else.
i don't know what it's like to be betrayed like that.

what i do know is that i can just be there to listen if she needs me.

and sometimes, it's all we need.

beautiful girls

i truly am in awe of some people's skills, talents, and charms.

first, there's gina. i don't know how he does it, but do guys - his type - flock to him.
military men, security guards, policemen.
is it the naughty-goatee baby-looking appeal?
or maybe it's in his eyes.

second, there's buboy. is it the stare? is it the pout?
ruel, jerome, eagle.
what does he murmur to the men that make them become putty in his hands?
impart your secrets, oh wise one.

lastly, there's b. how he manages to snag his crushes just amazes me. my idol.
eric, john, robin.
is it the seemingly innocent and demure smile?
bottle your charm, b.
i'll buy them by the dozen!

truly, madly, deeply

something i affirmed yet again about myself.

i may be apathetic to some things, but to my friends i'm not.
it's scary when i care.
it's scarily intense.
and intensely scary on the flipside.

i remember how i was the last one standing defending my bff.
she and i, like most of our friends, were so much alike.
opinionated, funny, and brilliant.
or so we'd like to think.
at the time, all her friends were just leaving her in droves.
i stayed by her side.

and then it happened.
i got dropped.
i freaked.
we stopped speaking for a year.
my bff.
all over a guy.

that was years ago.
now i've learned to accept my shortcomings, and know that others have them too.
she's now engaged, and going to marry next year to her fabulous man.

amen.

ladies' choice

can leopards change their spots?
can zebras lose their stripes?
can baboons - oh, you get the idea.

i don't know what's happening with me lately.
i seem to attract the species of the opposite sex.

which would be wonderful if i were a straight man.

short, tall, petite, voluptuous, waifish, rubenesque, fair, olive-skinned, you name it.

am i destined to be a hag's fag?

where are all the men?
and maybe some of the boys?

i don't get my appeal to women.

a pregnant lady told me she found me attractive.

a few girls i've known were surprised to know i like men.

i didn't know i was that subtle. maybe i should start going tranny. but wait, i might get mistaken as a lesbian.

how to save a life

desperate times call for desperate measures.

i, am desperate.

here i am, thinking of sacrificing my health for an almost-guaranteed shifting-schedule night job.

i did great at the interview and all, with a ready offer.

except that i'm an afternoon person.

and i like routine work hours.

if i were a banshee, i would've shrieked my head off already to warn of an impending doom.

yes, it's to warn me.

the job can possibly offer good pay at the risk of poor health.

i like health.

except i am destitute.

i am being such a choosy beggar.

aaargh!

lord, let me win the lotto.