Thursday, March 31, 2011

A Film Fest with an Attitude

It was the second day of the festival (March 26) and that was my first visit to the 9th Korea Film Festival here in Florence.

The movie they were featuring that day was a sci-fi movie.  Such genre doesn’t really thrill at all. What really convinced me to come was the thought that this is a product of a Korean director. Korean filmmakers always surprise me so I gave it a shot.

I came to the movie house waaaaay to early. I’m usually late for any kind of appointment unless it is something that would really feed my addiction.

I went to the bar of the theatre which was practically empty. No soul to be found. Not even the traces of any of the special guests of the festival. I was looking for the director like a real groupie. No sign of Bong Joon-ho. Sigh.

I went outside and I waited for several minutes for my friend, the only one whom I have brainwashed successfully to come to the festival. Again I looked around hoping to find any of the guest directors of the festival.

I saw this Korean guy wearing a white Korean suit. I was staring at him; stared at him for quite a while like how a stalker would stare lasciviously at its object of obsession. The ardent excitement was dampened when I found out that he was simply one of the organizers.

This festival really drives me mad, hysterical, anxious, excited, and delirious all at the same time. The rush to grab the tickets and front row seats, pictorials with the writers and filmmakers, the conferences- these things excite me. Most of my friends think that it’s complete boredom, that they won’t come because they would pass out and die. That’s mainly the reason why I’ve always wanted to drag them here- TO KILL THEM COLD-BLOODEDLY WITH BOREDOM.

But what really makes this festival so special and interesting is because Florence Korea Film Festival is the only film festival with an attitude. Just look at its initials and you’ll understand-


Yep, that’s a real badass acronym for an event.

Here's the official video clip of this year's festival:

Thursday, March 24, 2011

The Korean Invasion!

Yep, I got better abs than this guy. Hahaha!

But yes, this is the new poster of the 9th edition of the Samsung Korea Film Festival in Florence, which will be start on March 25, 2011. That’s tomorrow and it will be held at Odeon Cinema Florence.

This year’s edition of the Film Festival promises a sequence of personalities who brought the Korean film industry to the international scene. Film directors such as Lee Kyoo-man who will present his movie “Return”, director of “Poetry” Lee Chan-dong , and Bong Joon-ho, the director of the multi-award-winning movie “Mother”.

I just want to make it clear that the poster of the half-naked guy doesn’t insinuate that it is a gay film festival or an event that caters for female nymphomaniacs.

Overheard conversation:

Girl 1: (staring at the poster reading the details)

Girl 2: (walking towards her friend) Che cos’è?.... (as soon as she saw the poster) CHE COS’E’?!

Girl/Boy: Mmmm…. Mmmm…. Interessante. Quand’è?

PERVS! Hahahaha!

This year, the Korean Film Fest will feature the indie rock band Bye Bye Sea, performing for the first time here in Europe. How am I supposed to enjoy the concert since I don’t know Korean? I have no idea. I don’t give a heck. But I’m sure to enjoy the event.

For more information, visit their website-

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The Perfect Tablet

I’ve been asking my friends which tablet I should buy. I’ve been thinking about this long time ago and I would like to treat myself for my birthday.

But I wanted something that could meet my needs. I’m not like other people who would buy an iPad just for the sake of buying it and because it’s the coolest thing right now.

So the question is: Which tablet is perfect for me?

I know many of you asked the same question. I think people should buy the tablet that suits their personality. Great thing I read an article in Il Sole 24 Ore about choosing the right tablet for you.

So here it is-


  • Perfect for trendy yuppies, untalented posers, and “go-with-the-flow” crowd.
  • Artsy type of people, creative minds and people working in advertising companies.
  • Teachers and students
  • Preachers (my pastor has one. Pretty cool for a minister)
  • Employees in hotels and restaurants
  • Book-worms
  • People who love reading magazines and newspaper


  • Computer geeks
  • Hackers, and I mean the real ones, not the trying-hard type.
  • Movie buffs, cinema lovers
  • Software developers
  • Bloggers
  • People who would like to manage their websites in their tablet


  • Computer geeks and hackers
  • College students
  • Employees in hotels and restaurants


  • Faithful Blackberry users
  • Businessman
  • Students who are studying economy and business management
  • Sales reps and stock brokers
  • For people who need to consult train and airline schedules (can’t believe that such necessity exists)


·        Nostalgic of palmers
·        Office workers
·        Computer technicians

Friday, March 18, 2011

150 Years and 2 days of Being Uniquely Italy, Bravo, Bravissimo!

This post is about the celebration of 150 years and 2 days of Italy’s unification (because I was supposed to post this two days ago. Now it’s kinda late, but what the heck!).

After 150 years and two days, Italy has become the land of history, cradle of genius and the arts, the home of the most notorious latin lovers in history (the reigning champion, Berlusconi), closest neighbour to the Vatican State and the Pope, and perhaps one of the countries in the world that best typify outrageous contradictions.

And that’s what makes it so beautiful. I’ve been living here for almost 11 years and despite all the freakin’ xenophobes, Lega Nord, Berlusconi and Co., the prominent aged ruling class, dog poops all over the streets, stupid reckless drivers, strikes, the struggling minimum wage, the phoney euro, allergies in spring, torrid heat in summer, wicked winds of autumn, and the damning cold of winter, I have fallen in love with her.

I don’t think that this country and its people must become like their neighbours, otherwise they would lose the goal of its unification. Italy is not Europe. Italy is Italy.

No matter what they say about Italy, this is my second home.


Saturday, March 12, 2011

An Old Poem Out from the Blue Box of Phenomenal Mysteries

It’s Sunday. Got bored with Facebook, Twitter and CNN (Countless Negative News).

I started opening some folders in my computer. Baka kasi may nakalimutan akong mga “paperwork” na dapat tapusin.

It occurred to me that I’ve got hundreds and hundreds of files in my hard-disk drive. I opened some of the files and I saw the old poems that I wrote during my detrimental trying-hard-to-be-poetic phase two or three years ago. I also found some unfinished short stories and the first chapter of the novel that I was trying to write.

Hehehehe…. Di naman talaga ako writer. Trying-hard nga lang eh.

Anyway I found a poem that is just perfect for the month of March since we are celebrating the International Women’s Month.

I wrote this long time ago. It is quite impudent and has derogatory words in it and many people would be crying out “Excommunicate him!”, “Off with his head!”, “We want a pound of his flesh (or should I say disproportionate adipose tissues or flab)!”.

But anyway, I would like to dedicate this poem to all the girls out there.

Yes, this is for you. Girl power! Rock on!

Dalangin ng Matuwid na Dalaga

Aba! Mga Birheng Maria!
            Pinaghahampas kayo ng disgrasya
ng mga panginoon ninyong bastardo.

Bukod kayong sinira ng kalalakihang
            Hangal at pinagpala naman
Ang mga putang hangal.

Mga santa Mariang ina ng kinabukasan,
            ang kalayaan niyo’y inyong ipaglaban,
ngayon hanggang sa inyong kamatayan,


by Tripster Guy

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

Letters and a Roman Holiday part 3

Dear Eurostar,

Talikogenic no?

There are a lot of questions that revolve around insurance policies. They’re mind-boggling, abstract and, at other times, the judicial interpretations are contradictory. For an instance your car was hit by someone else’s car and you were the victim, the offender can still say that it was not his fault because your car is old and susceptible to accidents.

But this issue never happened to me. One of your passengers, a lawyer, was explaining this loudly to his friend over the phone while he was parading on the aisle of the coach like there was some sort of a one-man-gay pride during the trip from Rome to Florence.

I thought it was going to last forever.

That law expert didn’t know that you can’t make loud conversations like that, and passengers are advised to turn off their mobile phones during the trip because there are about a hundred passengers in the coach who might be sleeping or just relaxing. I mean, I paid a lot of money for a relaxing trip to Florence and this is what I get?

Eurostar you better do something before I start killing some of your passengers with my bare hands.

Homicidally yours,

The passenger with the tendency to go ballistic/schizophrenic like a psychotic serial killer,

Mr. Tripster


I left a bomb in one of your coaches. But I thought that bombing is already overrated, so I took it back.

Letters and a Roman Holiday part 2

Dear Fini,

            I waited for you outside the Montecitorio Palace but you didn’t show up. You’ve been like this since….ever.

            I’ve waited for you to become the new prime minister of this country. But what did you do? You settled on becoming the Parliament’s president and allowed yourself to become a pawn of that Premier D.O.M. I really think that you’re a lot better than Shorty.

            I think your brain is actually in your skull- alive and still functioning. Shorty’s half brain is located down there in his member and the other half is in his pockets. That explains why there’s so much bunga-bunga and miserly government budget all over the place.

            What are you so scared of? You don’t have to be insecure of anything. But then it’s not really easy to defy the child of Molech who is currently seated in Palazzo Chigi.

            But I’d still be waiting. I’ll be here waiting for you to get out of this Palace, kick the butt of Mussolini’s look-alike and run this freakin’ country to mental sanity. We can’t trust those whining weenies of left-wing parties.

            Coraggio! Rock on Roma!

Yours loyally,

The frustrated neophyte neo-fascist country boy

Letters and a Roman Holiday part 1

The blue skies of Rome by Ian Gallardo


I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me during my stay in Rome.

First, for not showing up when I arrived early in the morning. That morning I needed to show up in our church’s main office for official business and to leave my bags there. You were nowhere to be found. It’s okay. I’m not deliriously angry with you.

I went to a café and (as usual) I had engaged to my first shouting match of the day. Remember what happened in Milan? Well, it turns out that the old hag of a barista in Milan had a twin sister as ugly as her. I had my first shouting match of the day just for a croissant and cappuccino.

You called me and I understood that you overslept. It was fine. I had no choice but to embark on a journey alone around this metropolis. Imagine the excitement of a gullible country boy like me wandering alone in this urban jungle of Rome- among thieves, criminals, socialites, urban animals, idiots and ugly creatures, et al. At least now, in some ways, I know what to do the next time I’m going to visit the city for another business trip.

You told me where to go and gave me specific directions. I thought you were playing tricks on me. As I went down the labyrinthine Roman subway it all seemed an absurd practical joke. But it turned out that it is the only way to go. In circles. I thought I was going down the circuits of Dante’s Inferno.

After some dizzying hours I reached my destination, the
Barberini Square
. While I waited for you, I had the chance to have a shouting match (again) with a taxi driver who hastily stopped while I was evidently in the middle of the pedestrian lane. I thought I’d lose the match but the fool realised that I wasn’t going to back out. He accepted defeat and went away. It aroused my blood so well that I became even more excited. And the excitement turned into paranoia while I was waiting, maybe because I kept on remembering the day when some bandits stole my wallet one time I visited your city. There was only one way of calming myself down- coffee. I went to the nearest coffee shop and had some delicious cake and cappuccino. I wasn’t ready to have a nervous breakdown that day.

I was calm at last. And finally you showed up. If you were there, I would never be able to experience such delightful paranoia.

Second, for the lunch. It was great, partly because you paid for it. Hehehe. You see I’m really blessed for having generous and good-looking bestfriends. I don’t care if I look like a dump. All that matters is the fact that I can live with the generosity of my best friends. Hahahah! I know that I’m quite a freeloader. I insisted on paying my part of the bill but you didn’t want to accept it! But I’m really happy that you actually know how to appease the craving glutton in me. Thank you for being considerate and indulgent even if it’s against the strict orders of my inconsiderate doctor. Harharharhar!

Third, for the pictures. They actually remind me how monstrous I look right now and if I go on with my hideous lifestyle people might think that I’m Cookie Monster. The Roman panorama was fantastic- the Spanish Stairs, intriguing Skeleton Church of the Capuchins, and the Parliament’s palace, the Montecitorio. But I was quite dismayed to see my face. My freakin’ huge pimpled face!
The Spanish Stairs

And here’s another reason why you are such a true friend. You told me that if you only had enough time you could’ve edited them and made me look better. You are a true friend when you told me, “Hanggang may photoshop, may pag-asa (as long as there’s photoshop, there’s still hope). Hahaha!

I will return there again. Probably May. If the Lord wills it. If my imperial boss wills it too.

Hope to see you again soon.

Your freeloader of a friend and the most unlikely model for your photo-shoots,

Tripster Guy

The Sickening Black Hole of Day-off’s Boredom or the Typical Day of a Zombie

Bad hair day, no brushing of teeth, no shower....

6:30- Alarm went off. Axel Rose with his high-pitched rock star voice singing Sweet Child of Mine. Looked around my room. It’s my day-off. And yes, my cell is still reeking and covered with dust hoarded for about a month. Dirty clothes and undies, candy wrappers, notebooks and books, bags, my guitar, crumpled papers. For a minute, I thought I was in Smoky Mountain. Nothing to do. I can’t help it. Closed my eyes and went back to nightmare land.

Isn't it awesome that the first thing you hear in the early morning is this guy's screeching voice?
7:30- Opened my eyes again. The Smoky Mountain around me is grimly panoramic. The faint beeping sounds from my mobile made me realize that I’m in my cell and that people have already started bombarding my mobile with text messages which will soon be deleted without being read at all. Went out of bed. Without washing my face or brushing my teeth or combing my hair, I put on my pants, shirt, jacket and shoes and went outside. Walked all the way to the street where I parked the car last night. Hundreds of blocks away from our building. Why I parked my car there is still a mystery. I wasn’t drunk last night. Trip lang kaya ganon! I walked passed a school where kids with their dads and moms are loitering in front of the school gate. People were looking at me as if I were a zombie- disheveled hair, red eyes, with that distinct smell of a rotting cadaver. I wanted to growl at them but I just don’t have the drive to do it. I drove back to our place and parked Golfie in front of our building. Went back to my room. Stripped down to my boxers and went back to bed. I’m not an exhibitionist. I don’t normally sleep like this in my cell. I know it’s winter but it just felt so right to do it. And I was compelled to do it for no reason at all. It is cold and I hear the strong winter winds. Closed my eyes and went back to nightmare land.

an idea of how my room looks like

8:30- I was suddenly awakened by voices coming from the living room. My grandma got a long-distance call from her niece in Canada. She’s freakin’ screaming on the phone. Why do people scream like that when they receive a long-distance call? The clacking sounds of my mother’s shoes while she was preparing coffee. Papa’s already gone for work. I hear no sound from my sister’s big mouth. She’s still sleeping I guess. Another sleepy head like me. If only I can move out of here and have a place all by my own. But what can I do? The goddamn dirty tricks of life. So, I decided that I’ll get up later to get my caffeine fix. Closed my eyes again and this time, I went to oblivion.

Sometime around 11:00- Got up. Grabbed my mobile and sent some important messages to my friends. Put on my pyjamas and went to the kitchen to make some coffee. Read my morning devotion- Twisted II by Jessica Zafra. Yes, twisted people and zany books keep me sane and healthy.

- washed my face and brushed my teeth. As I looked at myself in the mirror I said that I should stop sleeping late and try to get rid of all these extra weight and pimples. I got so depressed. Went back to the kitchen to relieve the “emotional pain” caused by my “insecurities”. I tried not to think of the bills that I’m going to pay to repair my car’s engine.

Somewhere from -- Moments of worthless study of my new Facebook account. Tried editing the info in my profile page. All this trouble just to let people know that I hate them in general.

15:30-- games, games, and more games. More worthless things to do.

-- At this moment, the putrid smell from my body is unbearable. I decided to accomplish the verb “to bathe”.

-- My favorite part of the day- dinner. Followed by the least favorite duty of the day- washing the dishes. A dinner for a whole baranggay was served so I had to do the after-dinner chores together with the dishwasher. The dishwasher gave up. The machine walked out and suddenly she got hit by a car in an alley. A non-human reprise of Huling El Bimbo?
21:00-21:30- Sound tripping with my guitar. Hey Jude don’t make it bad take a sad song  and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart and then you can start to make it better.

-- I don’t do drugs. Jai Guru Deva Ohm…. Nothing’s gonna change my world. Nothing’s gonna change my world.

-- I love Beatles. Yesterday, all my troubles seem so far away…

22:30-wee hours-  Contemplating the sentences written by Jessica Zafra and Sylvia Plath. A literary cocktail of irony and pure detrimental poetic depression. But not enough to push me over the edge of suicidal mood. Partly because I can’t quite decipher Plath’s verses. They are quite absurd. It was Zafra’s book that kept me alive. She made me realize that it is important that I live so that our few numbers will be able to maintain the mental sanity of this idiot-filled planet. Went back to Facebook, Twitter, and many other worthless social networks that are supposedly created for the purpose of enriching my relationship with my friends and my connection to the world. I’m struck with awe and amazement at man’s ability to render special the things that are worthless and superficial.

Unknown time- What time is it? My eyes are heavy. I let my eyes wander around this small cell which I call my room. They say that the world around you is simply the reflection or the physical manifestation of the state of your mind. Does this mean that chaos and decadence are my natural habitat? No energy to ponder on such things. I was craving for coffee. Made myself a cup. Then another one. Then a caffe latte. Satisfied, I went back to my cell, turned off the light and lay down in my bed. I can hear the soft whispers, of voices from afar, as if singing a requiem from the deep entrails of the ocean. To my surprise, it was Debussy chanting a lullaby. I closed my eyes again and went back to oblivion.

Sweet dreams....