Monday, July 27, 2015

The Bedchambers of Power

In my ascent to the ladder of power, I have learned its sexual nature and its ability to lure men and women towards your sphere of influence. Power is a very useful tool, but very fragile too. And when it is abused, it becomes a time-bomb that could destroy everything around you.

There’s a special union between power and sex (lots of illicit sex). The higher one goes, the more intense the craving for sex gets. I think power begets illicit sex and vice versa. And it gives the shallow promise of immunity, henceforth corruption. And there you have it, the ultimate unholy trinity of human nature.

The forbidden liaisons and corruption of those who are on top will never pass unobserved by the lowly servants of a big company, especially when there are gossiping pinoys around and burdened employees.

There’s nothing more exquisite for destitute drones than finding solace in the sweet exchanges of devilish gossips with their fellow bondservants, about what’s happening in their masters’ bedchambers.

You really can’t blame the drones or keep them from talking about the secret liaisons of their masters. It’s the ultimate revenge of subordinates against their slave-drivers and opportunist masters. Others may be bitter and intend to destroy their masters’ reputation. And some are curious or are simply born as certified busy-bodies.

In our workplace, I have gathered enough stories and facts about almost everybody in the company’s ruling class.

Let’s start from the very top of the ladder- He Who is Proclaimed King of Fast-Food of Florence, a subtle philanderer. He WAS a true Italian male beauty- tall, blond, charming smile, cool voice, and a sharp mind that was forged in the most prestigious business school of the country. It was said that he got his wealth by marrying a Belgian beauty. Their marriage was the fruit of love; and just like any other fruit, it started to rot.

We presumed that the owner of the company would be quite busy running his business and saving his empire from economic downfall. But one night, he was spotted by an employee in a club where the young and reckless dwell in the night. He was there on the dance floor, a reckless rich guy, with one of his female general managers, a young whore in heat. Will the Belgian beauty know about this affair?

Then there’s the Brazilian business consultant, also known as The Sperminator. A father of two, and husband to exotic glamazon from Brazil. He’s no hunk. A bit flabby and has the nasal voice of a frog. Perhaps it’s his Latino machismo and his legendary super-endowed phallus that makes many women hover around his groin. Even the wisest and most powerful dragon-lady of the company (simply the CEO) was disarmed by his advances. Their affair was one the reasons that led her to fall from grace.

Indulging the needs of the Sperminator can definitely bring you success. A young Filipina, ALLEGEDLY, got her promotion by her outstanding performance, in the restaurant and in bed. Every night her roommates would hear the squeaking of a bed, screams and moans of two people banging like there’s no tomorrow. So you see, a good service brings success.

As for my superior, I always bring up stories of her unfaithfulness to the most desired bachelor of the company. When Mr. Bachelor was gone, she was whore-fucking his friend, one of the company’s directors who dated tall blond models. This director was cute but skinny. I wondered why was she attracted to this guy when Mr. Bachelor had better looks, more successful, and rich. I found out that skinny director was skinny in everything but his reproductive tool. His member is not just big. It’s mouth-wateringly the biggest and healthiest, and the premium example of an Italian stallion-like member in the realm.

So behind the angelic charm and soft voice, my boss is actually a raging, insatiable bitch of all time.

At the time, their story was sensational. You can actually hear employees maliciously sneer behind my superior whenever she’s around. Everybody was sympathetic to poor Mr. Bachelor. Now, he has found happiness in the arms of an Indian girl, and my boss found happiness grabbing Mr. Stallion’s happiness-tool.

One time I was sent to another branch of our chain of restaurants to help manage it and solve problems regarding its operations.

And there I met Mr. Beefcake, an employee in his forties, married, broad-shouldered, beefy arms, not good-looking but deliciously meaty and virile.

I always made sure that his shifts would coincide with my shifts (early signs of my own corruption). So even though work went smoothly, I always had a “hard” time. It was always a delightful experience having an eye-candy by my side. But it was just all looking but no touching.

During those months I found out that some of the problems and the difficulty of rallying the whole work force as a team were rooted to this- the secret affair of Mr. Beefcake and their Russian store manager who probably showered him with favours. Obviously, I found out about the affair.

Mr. Beefcake’s wife found out (God knows how) and she came to the restaurant making a scene, demanding that the Russian bitch be fired.

It was really a sad sight- the Russian store manager still keeping her job but still unhappy with her Italian fiancé, Beefcake lost his job while his family was falling apart, and me, still pleasuring myself, on my own. But after all this madness, I think I’m better off like this.

I hope not to fall from grace or commit any of my superiors’ sins. If I really have to rub off an itch, may the Heavens be merciful to steer me away from any chance of becoming the next Clinton-Lewinsky phenomenon.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Thursday, July 16, 2015

What I need now....

May castle na ako.... si Prince Charming na lang ang kulang. Hehehe!

It would be great if I can get married in this place, like my sister and my cousin.

The Castello di Bisarno.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Where's Crispin?

“Si Crispin” is a short book that took me weeks to finish. Written in heavy Tagalog, this is the work of Filipino word-master, Tony Perez, who has inspired many writers, like the contemporary novelist Edgar Calabia Sama, another novelist who writes heavy Tagalog. I really don't want to sound like some dumbass conyo, but it's not everyday that you read tagalog words or expressions that are used during Spanish rule. We are so used to Kris Aquino-speak, jejenese and pabebe language that when we read a book in tagalog, it's like learning a foreign language. 

 It’s really so pathetic of me to write something about this book that took the author many years of research and study. So I won’t say anything really about it. Because it’s not really bad.

In this book we see the (fictional) behind-the-scenes of Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo, as the writer recounts the story of what really happened to Crispin and his family, and the real identity of Crispin’s father. It’s the world of Rizal and agimats, and orasyon, and chants.

A must read for people who want to experience the discovery of our culture’s innocence and an interesting way of reading historical fiction.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Read This Like You Were Reading Sylvia Plath or Listening to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata

“You cannot cage this bird, my love. I’ve grown used to dark, dangerous freedom and all its attendant humiliations.”

-         from “The Piano Teacher” by Janice Y.K. Lee

A love story. I really don’t read love stories. But in this case, I got interested because it was set in Hongkong in the 1940’s.

I was interested in the customs and ways of the 40’s and 50’s because I’ve always thought that I was a beauty in the 50’s who behaved like a slut, that I was reincarnated in this flabby body of a conservative boy who behaves like an insatiable bottom in the bed at night.

So what was it like to live the life of a socialite party princess, a half-breed, despised by two races whose blood runs in your veins, courting love, hate and danger, as the storm of war starts to build-up nearby? What was love like when you have to choose freedom or the perilous life of living in truth?

I’m blabbering rubbish again. I just gave this book 3 stars. I kind of lost interest because I lost momentum perhaps? Or maybe love stories are not really for me.

I felt kind of lost after reading this because it is the story of love that was put to the test by fate, and that test was the uncertain times of World War II in Hongkong.

And you know how wars are- they can make you or break you.

Almost all the characters are broken by the war, and fate broke their hearts and spirits as well. As soon as peace came, everyone was lost, so is the reader.  

Monday, July 13, 2015

What can be more complicated than a divorce or a break-up?

What can be more complicated than a divorce or a break-up? A complicated divorce with much surrealism which can only be imagined by one of the greatest story-tellers of the world- Haruki Murakami.

The Wind-up Bird Chronicle is not really a love story. It starts with a missing cat. Then a medium, Malta Kano, who has an obsession with water, came to help Toru Okada and Kumiko Okada find the missing cat. Then the death of an old fortune-teller who was a former WWII soldier brought about the encounter of the Okadas and Lieutenant Mamiya, who told Toru Okada about his experience and life as a soldier, a story which will be an important background that will give colour and life to the mother and son duo Nutmeg and Cinnamon Akasaka who will help Toru in finding his wife, because at some point, Kumiko ran away, or disappeared, or went into some other dimension of existence and left Toru because she said she doesn’t love him anymore, by the will of Noboru Wataya, a weird politician and brother of Kumiko and the real bad guy of the story, who, for some reason, emanates all evil and malice, and who happened to have defiled/desecrated Creta Kano, the sister of Malta Kano and like her sister, she’s also a medium, who will help Toru have some wet dreams by banging him in his dreams or with the real him in some dimension or some other reality, and she [Creta] will help him, together with Malta, find Kumiko, who is probably being held hostage by Noboru. All throughout the time of his search for Kumiko he will be spending so much time in a well near a cursed apartment, where he would meet his peculiar neighbour, May Kasahara who would be having bizarre conversations with him, like it’s the most introspective and normal part of the story where the surreal and out-of-this-world experiences take place.

So that’s how a break-up can be complicated as told by Haruki Murakami. It’s mind-twisting but very exciting to read. Some parts that are introspective can be a real drag because it is a reasoning of a person in a world that is totally different from the world of normal novels, and our own reality. Whatever. I am not making any sense here anymore. My grammar is even terrible.

But anyway, it’s a great book to read.

“Without a true self, though, a person cannot go on living.”

-         from “The Wind-up Bird Chronicle” by Haruki Murakami

Tuesday, July 07, 2015

The Johnny Bravo Syndrome at Kung Bakit Nakakabadtrip Ang Mga Gwapo

Minsan talaga makakakita ka ng isang guy, super hot and sexy. Mukha pa lang makakaraos ka na. Habang naglalakad siya nakikita mo ang mga curves na sumisigaw sa hapit niyang jeans at t-shirt at sa iyong isip sisigaw ka ng “EXTRA RICE PLEASE! EXTRA RICE!”. Yung mga braso na sana ikaw ang sinasalo, mga mata na sana ikaw ang tinititigan, mga labi na sana kinakagat kagat mo, at mga binti na sana sinasakyan-sakyan mo habang-

Moving on. Makikita mo sila. At kapag swerte ka, makikilala mo sila at makakausap. Maraming ganyan dito. Pinoy at Italyano. At kapag ibinuka na nila ang kanilang bibig mapapa-isip ka, “Puwet ba itong kausap ko? Bakit puro shit ang mga pinagsasasabi?”

Oo, mga kapatid, maraming gwapo na sobra sa tanga. Ok masyadong harsh. Sabihin na lang natin na maraming gwapo na kulang sa personality, bad trip ka sa character pa nila, at wala kang mapapala sa intelligence. Ito ang tinatawag na Johnny Bravo Syndrome- mga lalaking hanggang kama na lang ang silbi, ngunit sa relationship eh wala kang mapapala.

Sorry, talaga kung masyado ang discriminatory. Hindi ko naman sinasabi na matalino ako. At wala sa hitsura ko ang maging choosy. Pero nagaalala lang ako sa sangkatauhan. Paano makakaabante ang sangkatauhan kung ang mga gwapo ay may Johnny Bravo Syndrome?

Johnny Bravo Syndrome- isang depekto sa personalidad at katalinuhan ng isang lalaki na kung saan sobrang self-absorbed niya, pati utak na absorb ng void.

I am really surprised na may ganon talagang mga lalaki. Akala ko kathang isip lang iyon, na mga character lang sa pelikula o cartoons. Pero totoo na may gago, may bobo, at may ewan.

Meron din naman na mautak. Gagamitin nila ang kanilang looks for their own benefit and purpose. Nakaka disarm naman talaga ang cuteness or gorgeousness ng mga lalaki. Pero dun mo ma-realize na wala talagang budhi ang mga hayop na yan. Mga oportunista.

Pero sabi nga nila? Kung may utak ka na at wala ka naman hitsura, bakit utak pa rin ang hahanapin mo? Humanap na lang daw ng gwapo, at least kumpleto ka na. Hahaha!

Nakakapanghinayang din kasi. Naalala ko lang yung panahon na na akit talaga ako ng sobra dito sa isang binata na kilala ko. Hindi ko lang patulan kasi, kadugo ko din naman. Nandidiri tuloy ako sa sarili ko. Ayoko kasi pumatol sa bata. Mas nandiri ako sa sarili ko dahil na attract ako sa isang taong kulang sa personality talaga at wit. Siguro dahil bata pa nga siya. Hahaha!

Sige na. Ako na ang ipokrita! Sunugin niyo na ako ng buhay! Oo aminado ako na gwapo din ang hinahanap ko. Pero sana naman yung may mapagkukwentuhan naman kami over dinner. Hindi naman siguro kami mag-love-making ng 24 hours. May mga oras din naman na kelangan ko ng kausap o kapalitan ng mga kuru-kuro. Dahil dadating ang panahon na mawawalan tayo ng hitsura, at unti-unting ma diminish ang sexual urges. Matitira na lang ay tayo na kulubot na ang mukha (unless ma afford natin ang botox) at puting buhok (unless ma afford din natin ang hair implantation sa Turkey).

Ang mas nakakabad trip sa mga ito eh they can really get away with anything basta mag invest lang sila sa kanilang looks. Better treatment, free access, surrounded by good-looking people, freebies- name it, makukuha nila yan sa isang ngiti pa lang. I know because I give better treatment to handsome men. Hahaha!

Sa mga average human beings na tulad ko, we have to work hard to achieve something. We have to be more civil, more amiable, mag effort pa sa pagiging corteous, and we have to suck up to people and kiss ass, or in most extreme cases, fight fiercely just to get what we want or what we deserve.

Ganon siguro talaga ang buhay- may kanya kanyang biyaya lang, dahil iba-iba rin ang trip ng Maykapal.

Ngunit ang panawagan ko lang sa inyong lahat ay ganito: Kung gwapo ka, humanap ka ng pangit na mas matalino sa iyo, dahil walang patutunguhan ang mundo kung puro gwapong bobo, dahil kahit kami’y pangit, may kinabukasan at may patutunguhan ang lahat.

Nagsalita ang pangit. Bow.

Monday, July 06, 2015

Sympies, the app with a soul.... feat. Yellow Birdie

Hi guys!

Here's an interesting mobile app called Sympies.

This is a mobile app created and developed by Margarita Demetria "Mai-mai" Cojuanco (Mikee Cojuanco's sister... and a friend of mine.... ehem... hahaha!)

I am promoting this because it's interesting, useful, and a ground-breaking work as well.

Read more about it in this link....

Sunday, July 05, 2015

An Heiress for a Friend

I am greatly honored to finally meet one of the heiresses of the great Filipino families. We're friends now! Hehehe!

From left to right- the Prince of Whales🐳, Margarita Demetria Cojuanco, and my best friend and fellow blogger, Yellow Birdie.

What's this all about? Social climbing, gate-crashing... but more than that, an app that has a soul.

Coming soon!