Journal on the days before Manila trip

I'm back in Manila. Wow! Can't believe the relief from all the work related stress and fatigue. Nothing like seeing your own people and your little fave things in the place you call home! hmmmm.... it's like I'm settling into some inertia and there's absolutely nothing I so want to do about it. Good to be just lazing around and at night... well, partying in my own little asuwang way. hik hik hik hik!!!

Five days before I returned I was doing my fairy rounds in Paris. A group pandering to the sights and the little kids playing even in the late night hours in the city public square caught my attention, so young looking, so smooth skinned but I can smell their ages and I can seen through the lines of their cosmetic surgery.

Don't care really if it's because my profession is in the fashion industry or just my being asuwang - that makes me quite a super detector, detective, whatever.  They were old! And I overheard a man calling one of them, Your Majesty My Queen. Huh?  What are they doing traipsing in public places in indifferent France? They could be bombed to oblivion by terroristes and no one will pay attention!  Yikes!  Here they pay attention more to someone like me walking their streets and suddenly one or two will reach for my butt to pinch it. Yuck! But when an old man rolls in the street after losing his walking cane - even if the poor guy gets run over - no one really minds.

Everyone to their own business of pinching puwets in France and loving mistresses and girl friends, talking up to eternity about wine, politics, couture and revoluccion to the exclusion of everything else! C'est terrible!

The pretend young-at-hearts did not catch my fancy after my first glance and a little harmless ogling at their necks and skins, a little listening to the beat of their hearts and organs. These group must be eating human liver for breakfast! They had strong hearts and good blood flow.

I liked them already at that very instant. Supposed to leave them for my fated fairy rounds, but I heard them mention the magic word: "...Banignow ... (inaudible words) ... the one they call Pheenoy?  He's coming to us here. That's not the reason we're seeing each other today ... (inaudible words) ... 

Ooops! I nestled upon a really nice fashionable looking tree in keeping with my tastes and preferences and wanted to eavesdrop but they looked to be on their way to some meeting. Before finishing the kodaking with my cell phone I hurried on the way to catch up with my super sexy looking lolos and lolas.

Oops! so sorry about my fingers! :)

Hey! don't blame me if Eiffel looks like it fell [down].

I'm the flying photog what can I do?

At the end of the park near the Hôtel Pas de Calais, a not so really wonderful and class traveller's residence, the group settled and entered a big gleaming, black luxury coach that sped off in a jiffy.

At the address number 11 rue Berryer, not far from where we left, the pretend young-at-heart elderly alighted and entered a building with an imposing structure and a small sign that read Hôtel Salomon de Rothschild.

The hôtel otel appeared to be off limits and despite the aroma of too much food being prepared by the hôtel kitchen, I couldn't smell any large group of humans in the entire structure. Everyone inside aside form the old ones looked to me to be the hôtel staff.

Most were in uniforms anyway. I sensed that the group had taken their sweet time chatting, moving an inch at a time, about things I didn't comprehend and reached what seemed like a dining area. I landed upon a skylight or more aptly a roof window and had a good view of the room. It had a tastely name - Lounge of Honour.

A good number of hôtel otel personnel were in attendance for the elderly group that seemed to me to be like really venerable guests.

I so liked the that the ladies among the staff curtsied and the men bowed each time, so old-fashioned and so chevalier chic.

There was small talk and while I was contemplating suddenly of my upcoming trip back to the Philippines, I heard my brain radar sparking to attention once more.

Elderly Female (look-alike of Prince Charles' mom): "Banignow Akeenow, that idiot wants to be second timer head of that forsaken state."

Elderly Male: "What can you say, he's so unpopular with those rotten, dirt poor people being bled by chinamen, and now koreans, and malaysians-indonesians."

Elderly Female (she seemed to be steering all the talk): "Well, if its true tell him when he comes around to our town that he's a fumbling baboon for saying so. And we can't allow him to do that. Can you imagine how many nincompoops he hired to make deposits of hundreds of millions of dollars that I ordered stalled in my banks? That silly small brained boy does not know his marbles! Stealing even my donations to that damned science project called Yolanda. Good heavens!"

More Elderly Male (2): "God forbid we give him that second chance! Can you even nourish the thought that all the shiploads of canned goods my family gave to the victims kept appearing in malls and stores owned by chinaman friends of that numb-brained boy and his ugly sisters? Oh Lord, what has gotten into that little hideous thieving country! Very unsightly, mind! I vehemently would like to even oppose his stepping on our shores if it were all up to me! Shit!"

Elderly Female: "My dear Fabrizio and Sir Winfried, let him be on this trip to town. I was the one that invited him after all."

More Elderly Female: "We should've nevah have let that stupid fart sit in that country. Absolutely no pedigree. The mother was a cunt peddler - look at the sister - with an Elektra Complex, running around chasing old men's penises."

Elderly Female: "Margarethe! Such language! Shut your trap!"

More Elderly Female: "And I just won't! Keep that monkey you invited away from me as far as far can be! I don't even want to see that beast's shadow!"

Demure Elderly: "And I heard right that the fellow is not heterosexual too! I guess I can invite him to my house Dear Elizabeth? Will you grant me that favour? I have pets male and female that are so in heat right now, I could use the service."

Elderly Female: "Damn that boy for the faux pas he's getting all of us into! And stop kidding here, we have important matters to discuss after dinner!"

Seductive Elderly Female: "Susan, what about the sister with Elektra Complex, will she fall for my thing? You know that I'm old too, but we just won't admit all of us here that we are! Ha ha ha ha ha!"

Elderly Female: "Hush, hush all of you, enough of that talk. Eat everyone. Dear Sir Rothschild, let the courses be served. Let's cross the bridge when we are about to tell that worm brain to get the hell out of office. He doesn't deserve more than a minute of our precious time."

Rothschild: "Ahem, yes Your Majesty. (Not looking at the staff, makes the order.) Oy, you heard Her Majesty, The Queen!"

Nearly every single one of the staff suddenly appeared like magic with platefuls of servings of this or that dish. Oooh! my mouth started to water.

So feeling too starved on top of that grandiose and pompous feast, I decided to go on the run for the rest of the night on my fairy rounds. I hoped to find a preggy little lady, instead of so many elderlies with quaint smooth skins and bad language to boot.

Now that I am back in Manila, I keep asking the question, what will happen to the Pnoy then when he meets his Makers?

This is how the Hotel Salomon de Rothschild looks like on the morning after my nocturnal eavesdropping.

And the old ones that met in that building I heard from my Interpol friend (she confessed to be a cop after all), they're called the Olympians - or by other names the self-proclaimed children of Zion.

How dare they place what they now call a monkey in Malacañang! And now they regret it completely!  They must be as brainless as the one they call Banignow. Oh No No No No No No!!!!