Coffee in Paris

While my legs and body aches from oh so, so many sessions on the ramp, yuck, I decided its time to give myself a little gift. So I took a leave from all the gut wrenching, soul stressing work and rested for a few days.

On the fourth day of seeing sights, wandering around the Fashion Capital, Paris, France, I met up with an old friend from Mindanao.

She has a perfume I envy because I cannot buy it since my ex boss owns the company and I hate my ex boss. Her name is Elnorah but I call her Elm Tree and she works like crazy as a publicist at a company called Neo or somesuch, that sells nice and high prized footwear. Oh! I exclaimed, I love thaat sooo - I am so like Imelda, I love shoes soooo much! She agrees, knowing my habits, likes, peeves and every one in my family of asuwangs (which makes her a bit afraid of me a teeny little bit too - I suspect, just a dirty little thought mind you).

We talked about sooo many Filipino things, never using French nor English nor any other language. (I don't know more than 4 anyway and I think neither does Elm - my good friend of long ago.)

Then we veered into the currents in the home country. And I learned once more (my first time was in the international media) and with alarm, the great brouhaha that somebody supposedly called nonoy aquino turned the idea of "term extension" into.

My friend says: "It's not true. It's just a PR campaign contracted to many big individual experts-contractors and a few corporate ones."

Oh? I ask, is that really true?  "Yes, she answered. Coz nonoy is already on the way out and his fame is fading fast more than acid-washed jeans."

That's true, I thought, that's been true for the past four years.

"Also the shit about Palparan?" Yeah I heard about that too, I told her. "It's just a blanket to cover the millions, gazillions of issues plaguing the nonoy administration back in the country. Crimes, Train accidents, disasters, sex scandals in the justice department, graft and corruption in Manila's counterpart of the White House or the The Palais de l'Élysée, lower government functionaries' involvement in large scale thievery of government money, and all that."

How do you know all these, I asked her.  "I'm a reporter remember? Duh!"

Yeah, that figures. "Jove Palpy," she explains, is the tip of a mysterious iceberg. "He used to be the front of one of the so-called large-scale illegal drugs pipelines from-to the Philippines and abroad - specially China. To hide the activities of the drugs pipeline, the masterminds behind the syndicate-and-government-protection-ring, hired former rebels to kill communist young workers as a diversion.

The media publicity became so much that no one turned their attention to the large scale smuggling of drugs in Mindoro, in the South, even in Manila itself. And that shit doubled, tripled, quadrupled in the last three to four years alone.

It was getting too very dark, so late and too fast, so I suddenly told my friend stop. Stop talking, let's have another coffee talk someday when I'll have my beauty rest again. (I had the urge to do my fairy rounds tonight, but I needed to go home first.)

After me and Elm parted ways, in just a jiffy I was in the air. It was already really deep into the evening or night - not that I did not approve.

I followed Elms scent but it led me to a great imposing building near the central complex that included The Palais de l'Élysée.  Its big neon lit sign said: INTERPOL INTELLIGENCE DIVISION.

Fuck shoes, my friend is a stinking cop but I enjoyed her tall tales anyway. And I continued my fairy rounds... thinking of term extension of that abnormal dude who never deserved a first term at all, a malnourished old man called Pinalpagan, and laughing all the way...

As far as I can remember, this army general has never looked brave

or sinister and cruel to me. Maybe Elm was right after all. He could

just be a scapegoat and in fact, I think by the looks of him, he is an old

emaciated neglected senior citizen. He must have children and grand

children to be sure but they can't even touch him with a 10-foot pole

because of the damned stupid stigma. Why is the Filipino population

always so easy to fool?

The Screeching Scratching Irritants of Asuwangs

Everytime we wacwacs hear the sound of scratching specially at night, we fear for our lives dearly.  It is true, it is true we want to bite the hand and the neck and chest and tummy of the one making the scratch, scratch, screech, screech because it is not only irritating. We wacwacs (waqzys for short - hrmmph! they changed the name women to womyn, so why can't wacwac change our moniquer too?) hate it because we become extremely paranoid that some idiot out there is out to gut us with their butcher's knife.

I am particularly allergic to butcher's knives. It holds a power that is so, so menacing to me, not only in my waking nights (I'd like to sleep mostly during the day, if I can) but even in my dreams. How many times did I dream of that ugly thing slicing through my beautiful fashion model's fingers, my dearie tongue that I use to caress babies in the wombs to sleep until the forever after, my splendidly sculpted Venus' bod (that I spend too many hours doing asanas as in yoga you dumb dumb, aerobic exercise, dancing to sweat out the baby and not so young fats I indulged in) or any other part of my wonderful temple that I adore so much including my hair (don't touch it you sleazy slime ball!).

The screech, scratch sounds should be eliminated in this Universe. It cannot be that I am hearing so much of it often these days! On August 26, 2014, as stated in the short message I got in my mobile, they are going to make much awful screeching scratching little and big disturbing sounds in what they call the NOISE BARRAGE!  Oh my my!!! Stop!!!

A few nights ago, before receiving that damned message, I was in my flying mood so I did my fairy rounds and vagabonded in the air space once more. Boom! I was on top of a big house near the huge Pasig River (its so humongous if you see it from the air) and I could clearly hear the sound of fighting.

Female voice: YOU HAVE TO SILENCE THE ESZEEY!  YOU WILL BRING US ALL DOWN WITH YOU, YOU DUMB SHIT!!! LUKO LUKO, WHY DIDN'T OUR MOM AND DAD KILL YOU WHEN THEY SAW YOU WERE TIYANAK (BABY BORN NOT HUMAN).

the baby faced manboy under siege

Male voice: I AM DOING EVERYTHING THAT YOU ASK! STOP DIDDLING ME! WE ARE ALL VAMPIRES HERE!!!  WE ARE ALL STEALING THE PEOPLE'S BLOOD AND ALL DAMNED YOU ALL FOR BEING MY FAMILY!!!  IMAGININ MO YUN, TINANGGAL KO ANG SUPREME COURT!!! TINANGGAL KO ANG PODER NG SENADO!!! WALA NA SILA!!! AKO NA LANG AT MGA TROPA!!! ANO PA GUSTO NINYO!!!!!!???$%%

Female voice: PAKAWALAN MO NA YUNG SECRET YELLOW ERASERS! PUNYETA KA!!! MATAGAL NAMIN SINASABI SA IYO, PAG PINAGTAGAL MO PA SA MUNDO ANG MGA IYAN SASAKIT LANG ANG ULO MO LALO ULOL KA KASI, BALIW KA!!! ABNORMAL!!!

Male voice: EH SIRA ULO KA MAS PALA SIZ! KAPATID MO KO! SAAN BA GALING DUGO NIYO AT DUGO KO!

Female voice: GAGU!!! EWAN NAMIN KUNG SAAN KA PINULOT NI MOMMY!!! (Softly pleading tone) Mom, sorry, sumalangit ka na ngayon na haaaa!!!

Male voice: SIGE NA SIGE NA. PAKAKAWALAN KO NA ANG SECRET ERASER. BASTA YUNG NIKA ISAP SI BABALU NA KAMAGANAK NI EF GEE SA NATIONAL SEKYU CANCELLED AT SI PURI KAYO LAHAT ANG BAHALA MAGLINIS NG DADAANAN NOON MGA DIPUTA KAYO MGA BALIW KAYO. PARANG HINDI LANG KOKONTI ANG NAPAPAPATAY NATIN DAHIL SA KASAKIMAN AT KABALIWAN NG PAMILYA NATIN.

That's what I heard. Then a few meters away this:

Soft Male voice: Sir Man Boy is mad.

Soft Female voice: Mga Tiger ma'ams ay mad din.

Soft Male voice: May rally na naman kasi.

Soft Female voice: Aw?

Soft Male voice: Oo at ang mga HAYUP ay gagawa pa ng NOISE BARRAGE daw sa 26.

(They knew what I didn't know, yet)

Soft Female voice: Wow galing ooops! Nakupo! May nakikinig ba?

Soft Male voice: Wala, wag ka ganyan, baka marinig ka ng mga boss natin na baliw.

Soft Female voice: At ubod ng magnanakaw. Ano kaya?

Soft Male voice: Anong ano?

Soft Female voice: Eh takot sa ingay yan sila Sir at mga ma'ams at mga asawa.

Soft Male voice: O eh ano ngayon.

Soft Female voice: Magpaputok tayo doon sa Otis?

Soft Male voice: Sira ulo ka ba?

Soft Female voice: Para di nila marinig NOISE BARRAGE.

Soft Male voice: Gago!

Soft Female voice: At least pag may tunog ng bumabaril mahimbing tulog nila, eh di walang istorbo.

Oh my G! What kind of people are these?

I've lost my appetite tonight. What the heck was that all about? What kasakiman? Why are they more afraid of screeching, scratching than asuwangs? Oy, I always thought only wacwacs can be paranoid. But sadly, I'm in really very bad company here!!! Yiiikes!!!

Tonight is so depressing frustrating, I'm sick to my inner tummy. No mamam too.

I guess it's hard to be asuwang, ooops waqzy baby... specially if you're facing stiff competition from weird frenzied blood suckers!!! till next time, tata!

my competition. how bastos look.

In the dead of night

Sir Butcy Buut, photo from Inquirer.net

Sir Frank, looking respectably toady in black graduation gown - photo from dipolognon.com

Sir Prezyzezzy Noy - photo from 2010presidentiables.wordpress.com

he appears to be secretly exchanging inspirational, spiritual quotes with the lady behind

While doing my little fairy rounds (excuse me, my new sobriquet for my nocturnal wacwac flights is this one now), I decided to drop by the detention cell of Ms. Janet alias Jenny, alias Jen, Jing Napoles.

It appeared that she was asleep, as she was mildly snoring. I let out my snaky little particle (I won't admit that it's my implement for tasting, uhmm you know, its embarrassing) and felt her neck. She shuddered a little and looked like she felt tickled.

Next my particle touched her neck part to feel for a pulse, well, the beat was slow, so she's in some sort of deep sleep. Then I started because she started singing. She sang and sang until I was afraid it will be very much in the wee hours and morning will catch me in my state. Now that is unacceptable so I fled from the scene of the crime.

I vividly remember her song, it was Philippine National Anthem-like, a fairly marchy song, I'm sure of it. Of course, she didn't begin with Bayang Magiliw like in grade school but she kept repeating the names Sir Franklin Dri--, Sir Butchy Butchy Aba--, Ma'am AbbaAbby Valt--, and Sir Prezy Zezzyzzy No--, kahit anong mangyari nasa akin side kayo...

Then she goes, di ba Sir Franky binigyan kita ng maraming pera? O ikaw Sir Butchy Buut, I gave you din di ba? Ikaw Sir Prezy Zezzy, magkano binigay ko? O, ipapatawag niyo pa ba ako? Sa manlulupig di ka pasisiil di ba?

Magunaw man ang mundo, mangamoy man ang buong langit, wala naman nabokya sa inyo, I don't need to say anything di ba? Or mag read ng statement or tula sa shetnado? Kung hindi aba, ba, ba, talaga kayo ang will be blamed in the end, nakulong pa kayo with me here sa jail.

Oy kung wala kami nina Zaldy C-- na taga Bikol, sila --- iola (unintelligible), saan naman kayo pupulutin? Paano niyo la la lay lay lalaruin ang mga pera ng gobierno? Hala! Laruin niyo ang dibdib kong buhay!

And the song got a little sexy for my taste so I noticed it was getting time to go home like. That was when I made my surreptitious exit passing by the guards dozing off like babies, munching on imagined crispy fried pork rinds (chicharon dumb dumb). What does she mean she's going to get Sir Frank, Sir Butchy Buut, and Sir Prezy Zezzy next to her in jail? That was quite a dilemma for me, but then you will know, intelligent people you are.

I'm just a wacwac anyway, get guessing, I'm off to my hearty breakfast of raw male baby liver and some female baby pancreas - better than stem cell therapy, mind you. Then my fashion beauty sleep. That coz I'm still flying to the family mansions of Sir Frank, Sir Butchy Buut and the house of bachelor Sir Prezyzezzy all in one flight next time. Hohummm..... See ya guys! Watch out for my beautiful suave lengua viscosa larga. Google that, dumb dumb.

Taste this dinuguan pork:

P27 Billion PDAF in 2014 budget

So close

I feel so very close to this person, this creature. I saw her so many times whenever I fly over my own fashion digs here and abroad. So close I could really eat her.

If the both of these two are so close (look at him and her blushing), what would the other one  of the two, say to him?

I'd as soon as hell be happy to let her borrow my line: I'll eat you!

Flying back to WestMind

It's been a long time since my foreign modeling trips and it's both good and not so good to be back in Mindanao. The good part is I am home once more; back to the places and food and things I sorely missed during the long years of flight out of the country. The bad part is, my home is a wreck. War visits. It's not my cup of tea because I like the finer things in this life, after all its all that we have. To have big trouble trampling all over your house is worrisome.

Everyone is staying at home scared shitless. They closed everything here in my beloved Zamboanga City; no banks, no shops; no schools; no public transport - air, land nor sea. But of course I don't mind since I do a little secret flying on my own.

There are the deceased in some places in WestMind that to me both look not too awful and those that looked very bad. These ones died either fighting for what they believe in or else just got swept by the tide towards the end.

What is the sense of all of this fighting? For nights I flew and flew over Davao, Zamboanga, then took detours to Cotabato, Sulu, Basilan and heard humans whispering: they'll (enemies of the current sitting overlord by the Pasig) bring damnation to that man. Surely they will.

Some of the elders in close huddle tell tales to each other over native spirits (mild alcoholic liquor made from coco), that it didn't pay to be deaf to Maas. Of course many people, including children know that to be the grandfatherly Nur Misuari; he used to be quite devilishly charming as a young man, but now he fits that monicker. I don't know how they coined that name for him, probably its the old Tausug way.

I guess this shedding of blood will not be all of it, that if no sensible intervention swoops into WestMind, certainly there will be generations that will pay for the terrible fiasco. When I passed by a collective of blond haired foreign soldiers, I overheard them saying, all they wanted was to build US bases in Gen San and the MILF to help them achieve that; now the damned Libyan trained Kumander Boy Thunder and his ilk are making serious attacks against innocents. Why not attack soldiers instead? Why hostage the unknowing residents of Santa Barbara and Santa Catalina, etcetera, etcetera? I wanted to get a delicious bite of not one but two, or three of these tasty looking guys right then and there. Very brave, them lot.

In Sulu, after my third fly-over, I noticed a familiar looking elderly guy from Metro Manila parties wearing a general's uniform of the MNLF talking to a young female warrior cleaning her high powered sniper rifle. He said, you know, I said goodbye to my family - except to my better half who went ahead of me - and  to my friends, to all my people in my office, last year in Manila when I was called to do my duty to the Bangsa Moro.

This is where my heart belongs. The struggle, the war, the battle is where my entire being wants to be. And my heart specially beats for you even on the very first night that we met. The female warrior looked up at the old general with fervently admiring eyes and a lust filled face. And she said, I have longed to serve with you even when I was a small girl and now that I am here, I am filled with boundless joy. I could only imagine what the long nights  at the battlefronts would lead them to.

Strange, how troubles bring two people like that together and breed a kind of chemistry as old as Adam and Eve. Perhaps despite that ugly charade of men and women to wage atrocities upon one another, pockets of benign affections can never be totally lost and crushed by evil warmongers.

If I can muster an army of asuwang (ghouls) in my own time, hopefully soon enough, I'd like us to cook and eat with relish all the bullshit merchants of death and devastation that are now ruining my beloved home.

Flying in Sulu Mindanao

They say a highly controversial kidnapping happened in Mindanao. Being idle for a long time with my unearthly, otherworldly investigations, I decided to take a midnight flight bringing some pocket money with me to Jolo, Sulu. Of course, I passed by Zamboanga and a lot of other places. I stayed in the mountains at the outskirts of Jolo proper.

After staying in the place for weeks on end, I now agree completely with Blogger allevii who reports that the ICRC kidnapping is not an authentic kidnap incident. But it could evolve into something very ugly. Blogger girbaudz says that it is possible that the hostages will be killed. Girbaudz and allevii also blogged their surprise that the truth about the kidnapping is being effectively suppressed!

I actually saw that the ICRC workers will die. A large number of people will die that will join in, or will be caught in the middle of, the combat when the opposing forces will meet.

The Red Cross workers paid a courtesy visit to the Vice Governor, who is the Red Cross head in the province. Then they visited the jail where supposedly they had a project at. Suddenly, in front of the gate outside the jail after visiting, the Red Cross workers were kidnapped. A supposed former government worker at that jail kidnapped them. He is identified as Raden Abu. His uncle, supposedly is an Abu Sayyaf leader called Dr. Abu.

Raden Abu was accompanied by four other people. Two are closely related to him but the other two are identified as soldiers based in Jolo.

The question is why did the ICRC workers objected to the offer of security escorts by government? Why did they instead chose to place their lives and safety at considerable risk by rejecting the offer of security assistance from the Philippine Government. Just look at the big costs and expenses the government is incurring in trying to resolve the problem! The waste of money is tremendous! Look at the people of Sulu, they are so poor and live a decrepit existence.

Small make shift market alongside a perennially flooded street

People ride in small cabs, motorcycle driven or

foot pedal-driven. The passengers face each other

inside the crowded cab.

Passengers on public utility vehicles often ride on the roof

Garbade cans on a flooded street

Common sight in Jolo: children begging for small money to buy food

To compound the poverty, there is constant conflict raging between Abu Sayyaf, breakaway-renegade MNLF groups and government forces.

Bandit elements and feuding families also contribute greatly to the hostilities in Sulu. On the second week of February, after the local government of Sulu, the national government and the civilian population agreed to cooperate in catching the kidnappers, suddenly a series of mortar attacks was made against Jolo proper. The mortar shells pierced houses in Busbos, Jolo and the Notre Dame school in Jolo. The areas hit were adjacent to or near the marines main headquarters in Jolo. Scores of people were seriously injured, including among them, children. I had to fly away immediately. The strong delicious scent of blood was making me want to eat the victims...

As much as I wanted to very much, I canot bear the thought of wanting to eat this poor little child for dinner.

I saw this lady while she was going to the hospital very much later after the soldiers and policemen crowding the hospital had left.

From afar, the lady has good complexion. I thought she might be good to eat. On closer look, I would not touch her with a ten foot pole. My gosh! Her skin is old and very much recycled, stretched, patched and stitched in many parts. I decided to fly away knowing I could not eat her.

Look at her website logo. It says "Hatred can be overcome only by love." Hmmm... It's very intriguing, since from my overhearing a lot of conversations in that place where I flew freely and extensively, many people were saying that this woman and a rumored lover soldier, kidnapped the ICRC workers.

She held the hostages in her own soy sauce factory cum farm property in Indanan, a short flight for me from Jolo, Sulu. The Mayor in that place is also a relative of the so-called Abu Sayyaf kidnappers.

I saw the woman take a quick flight to Manila and followed her. I was back to civilization at last. She kept talking to a number of people. From their conversation, I heard the word "ransom" several times!

Huh! It's all a real bull shit scenario if you ask me!

kahit kailan bobo talaga si erap, lacson, pinsan nene

kung papansinin ninyo, halos magpanabay nagsalita sila erap, lacson at nene pimentel. lahat sila inuudyukan ang taumbayan na magalit, ang mga soldiers natin sa armed forces maglunsad na ng all out war laban sa milf.

noong matagal nang nagdaan na taon 2000, habang namamasyal ako sa lanao, misamis, maguindanao, nadinig ko sa mga tao na si nasirang mrs. monet de villa ay paikot-ikot na parang ipu-ipo sa mindanao. lakad dito, lakad doon, kausap dito, kausap doon. yun pala, mula sa dipolog at kung saan-saan, inaayos ni madam monet ang miting ng kanyang asawa si rene, at ni al haj murad, at ni nasirang salamat hashim.

nalaman ko ang pagmimitingan nila lugar kaya pumunta ako. nag pirmahan ng secret agreement sina de villa at salamat. laking salamat talaga ni devil! kitang kita mo sa mukha niya, parang pusang nakalunok ng malaking daga! tutulong ang milf sa kanyang grupo na ilaglag si erap mula sa malakanyang.

bago ito, maghahasik ng gulo ang milf at pagdedeklarahin ng giyera si erap. nangyari nga ito. kaya lang, sumobra itong erap. sa ilang buwang pinanatili ko sa mindanao dahil giyera dun (wag niyo nang itanong kung bakit kailangan kong mamalagi doon, aba!) kinubkob ni erap lahat ng sagradong lugar ng mga moro. tumangis halos lahat ng mga maguindanao sa ginawa ni erap sa kanila. subali't ang pag-asa na lamang nila ay ang secret agreement nila na pirmado ni devil at mukhang palalagdaan din daw ito kay gloria arroyo.

nakita ko ang mga matatandang maguindanao at kinausap ko ang marami sa kanila, ito ang sabi nila: may masamang pangitain sila sa maaaring mangyari kay estrada. mamamatay ito sa mga malupit na kamay ni al'lah! nakupu! paano, tanong ko. di ko na daw dapat malaman. ay!

ang tingin ko, masama ang pagkubkob ni erap sa sagradong mga lugar ng milf. malaking galit ang nalikha niya. malaking gulo!

tapos, ngayon, sila ni ping lacson (akala mo hindi ko nakikita sa paglalakbay lakbay ko ang pagbabakla bakla at pedopil niya sa gabi ha?) at pimentel na nene pa, na pinsan in law pa ni erap dahil pimentel din si dra. luisa ejercito, ibig ibalik ang all-out war.

bakit all-out war? kasi baka sakaling hindi na mangyari ang sakuna kay erap at mga alipores niya? hindi mangyayari iyon. all-out war upang mabura na ang milf na kinatatakutan ni erap sanhi ng ginawang niyang kabalbalan at katarantaduhan, pagyurak sa sagradong mga lupa ng mga maguindanao muslims.

luko-luko na talaga itong si erap sa dami ng seks, alak at sakit sa katawan. ito namang si ping lacson na maraming beses ko nang natiyempuhan, nasira na rin ang utak sa kababakla, kapepedo sa mga batang lalaki at kapapanggap na lalaking lalaki siya, tulad ni nene. si nene naman, nawarat na ang bungo nito sa kaiisip kung paano niya maibabalik ang suwerti nung kasama pa niya si gob ng bulacan at kinukuha nila ang limpak limpak na european money ng mga christian democrats! paiyak iyak pa itong si nene minsang nasumpungan kong kayakap niya si joe perez na ang lantad na alyas ay joe de venecia, jr. kulang na lang mag lips to lips ang dalawa at hagulgol talaga ng husto si nene, dahil tinatanggap na muli siyang isang christian democrat, previously, isang magnanakaw ng christian democrat funds.

ay erap!

ay nene!

ay lacson ping!

sa ibang planeta na kayo mang-urot! baka lusubin namin kayo, sampu ng mga angkan ko!

all-out war ka diyan! hummpphhh!

bobo!