I wonder what's with the Asian attitude/behavior of acting so high and mighty whenever they're able to get to the States and establish themselves there...it's not like the pores on their faces or the cholesterolics on their bellies metasthasize into a minimum when they are able to get there...they seem to look down on their Asian brothers who are stuck here...well Mr. Pig Sty here is a classic example of an Asian acting high and mighty and assuming he is on top of the world just because he has made his way out of the woods and into greener pastures...Well guess what Porky? You ain't got no right to look down on us unless you can see our toes where your belly covers it HAHAHAHAHHA
Friday, November 30, 2007
a lovely COMPLIMENT..
Thank you for your message!!!
Look at what this fucktard shot in my email on myspace inbox...
check his myspace out too!
and here is the catastrophe that is him LOL
Thursday, November 29, 2007
you thought it was STD?
Crabs anyone?
No! Not that type of crab LOL...
Have you noticed how crabs climb on top of each other whenever they are ascending to a higher platform? They'll grab their companion, use him as a lever to pull himself up in the scramble to the top and probably not bother to ponder on whether they have violated crustacean ethics or not LOL. As imprinted in their nonexistent brains the uppermost portion of any place is a safe haven for them so that's why the instinct to flee up. This phenomena is very observable when there is an enormous concentration of these shelled creatures in a minute amount of space.
Filipino people in many ways are the biggest practitioners of this kind of behavior. I am not generalising and making the conclusion that this is true for the whole populace but this is a very observable and recurrent phenomena particularly in Filipinos who work abroad. From stories of American guys who I have shared amusing but enlightening anecdotes with, they think that a Filipino's worst enemy is his own countryman. The same people who can help you get a job and get started when you are a neophyte in the deadly pursuit of milk and honey in a foreign land may also be the same people who pull you down once they see you are rising up the ranks.
Personally I think that this is a combination of envy, jealousy and pride. Many of my fellowmen cannot accept the fact that some of us can just progress because of hard work. They think it is pure luck and they want to have the same luck too. Why should they equate hard work with it when they are trapped in the cataclysmic belief that success is 50% luck and life is one big noontime contest? Another issue also I think is complacency. Many of us here in this country are meandering in an existence of easy life, easy money, easy work. They want to remain in their personal comfort zone for as long as they want. If they work too hard they fear that their hard work might not yield fruit and so they fear venturing into anything risky even with the possibility of self-progression. I believe that when a person settles into stagnation and think that because he is happy now he may rest his laurels even with a lack of permanence then his life ceases to go on. The lack of motivation and of course action is very very innate in most Filipinos. Because a task has been accomplished or a deal has been made regardless of the quality of one's work or the outcome, they will be more than happy to say Case closed.
I am rattling on about characteristics here but the crucial concept behind the crab phenomena is that my compatriots are practitioners of the adage, "Birds of the same feather SHOULD flock together." So anyone who stands out and digresses from the statistic is prey for the envious Filipino. Why should there be any distinction? We are one nation and a brotherhood so we should be equal in all aspects. But it's the negative connotation of this practice that is the main focus. If there is unity why should one progress? Why should one acquire more and own more? Again the disregard for the input one person has made such as long hours, effort and sweat is a common practice many Pinoys indulge in. This is such a sickening thought but in very recent times I have upheld this belief and have a very low regard for my fellowmen as a result. If they think they have the capacity and the right to pull me down, take advantage of and discriminate me then shouldn't I be obliged to shit on their faces and label them as world-class losers??? LOL
I know I am going to get axed when I finish this rant but hell this is my blog and my space so why are you here to condemn me? If you wanna axe me then please go ahead and behead me.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
click if you love being offended...
Doesnt this http://i43.photobucket.com/albums/e366/zerodi/sn.jpg
remind you of....
HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA
The human race would like to give a ton of thanks to our dearly departed HOGZILLA for laying out the genetic code of Miss Self proclaimed Queen Shemale of Asia HAHAHHAHAHA
PS thank you National Geographic and caosblog for the picture....this is beauteous!!!!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
the power of a haircut
before.....
after.........
after.........
i may come off as going a bit overboard here but.....Marc Jacobs can you please marry meeeeeeeeeeeee???? LOL
i love thin, lanky guys and he has become the epitome of the Adonis of my every waking moment ever since he shaved his hair off!!!!
P.S. thank you http://www.style.com/, http://www.perezhilton.com/, http://thefashionator.ivillage.com/ for the photos!!!! i am indebted!!!
Saturday, November 17, 2007
son of the sun...
If he is not one of the most enigmatic character of modern film-making then film critics have failed greatly in their positions. They may have also been focusing too much on those what-the-hell's-so-brilliant-with-these "Hilary Swank" movies LOL. For "Jamie" then later known as "Jim Graham" in one of Spielberg's most important films is a figure I have never encountered in a film character. Christopher Bailey as a young actor of course deserves so much credit for his portrayal of the World War 2 fictional hero. Not only is genius written all over his performance but his morphing into young Jamie deserves nothing less than worship given it was his acting debut!
"Empire of the Sun" is the stage where we witness Jim's uncanny energy, shining intelligence, and steely determination. As a sheltered child all his life, being thrown alone into an internment camp with adults he had never met before and children who could cling to their parents when they wanted to would have been a harrowing experience for any individual of any age. Yes he goes through this shocked phase in the earlier parts of the movie but he manages to pick himself up, fight for his rights, work for his daily bread and parlay himself into a fixture in the Japanese-controlled community. How many times did we see glances of admiration and words of exclamatory praise from fellow characters who lived with him throughout the film?
Spielberg's talent for exaggeration created a ring of legend around Jim too. How many times can one be so lucky in life especially the kind of luck which involves life and death situations? Twice? Thrice? Jim's outrageous streak included his most amazing expedition into the Japanese camp to place pheasant traps in strategic areas within the area. How chilling can the movie get when through the barbed wires of the encampment, under the murky waters and right beneath the Jap commander's menacing, shiny rifle, the young lad goes through unscathed with just mud all over his body to ruin the occasion LOL? Or am I just overrating the young character's skill and undermining the possibility that it is the individual who creates his own luck and not the circumstances around him?
We also understand the young boy's insanity, flamboyance and daredevilish ways for in a war which becomes a test for human character in the average adult human being, all sorts of defense mechanisms develop no matter how twisted. Still his inner strength is legendary. Singing a Welsh hymn in Japanese while facing several Japanese soldiers in a kamikaze ritual was one outstanding scene in the film particularly because it brought tears not only to Sergeant Nagata (who almost killed Jim in his pheasant trap snaring circus act) but also mine. Friendship and companionship are human qualities that transcend international boundaries and the Japanese soldier's tears touched me greatly for it clearly symbolizes that no war can break human bonds especially if they are so strong. Another symbolic event in the story was Jim dancing and jumping energetically when parachutes of food supplies and medicine from the American troops came down from the heavens as if Christmas came early and the ecstasy of finally having his hands on nourishment with any semblance of taste became too much for a young boy who thought potatoes was the end-all and be-all of the camp's menu! Does the adage,"when it rains, it pours" lend justice to this scene. Barely so, I believe....
After watching the film, take my advice. PLEASE DO NOT FOLLOW ME. I waited a long time before I sat and gave time for myself to view this Spielberg classic. I only ever watched it seriously and with my usual one-tracked concentration 20 years after its release! If you find a movie and you smell classic or legend written all over it, please watch it. Haha. Viewing a brilliant film has many benefits one of which is you are able to share with friends the grandeur of a classic without sounding obsolete or out-of-date. As a consequence, you increase your chances of sounding believable too hahaha. But I have tried to remain as faithful to the basic essences I have extracted out of the movie eventhough this review is definitely obsolete so please do believe what I have to say hehehe. But what the heck! What are storage devices such as VHS tapes, compact discs and hard drives for if you can't view a movie over and over again, right? Watch it all over again so you can prove me correct or wrong in this entry, right? Hehehe...
Friday, November 16, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Issao nao e verdade
In a book by Don Kulick, a picture of a wall scrolled with the Brazilian words, "Issao nao e Verdade," is found in its very first pages. The wall is actually located along a steep narrow alley with enormous potholes in Sao Francisco Street in Salvador, Brazil. The words mean, "this is not real" in its English translation. Kulick thinks this is a reminder to anyone who is passing through this place that one is entering a different realm, a place where appearances might be deceiving and where what was real and what was not was very much a question of one's desires, point of view and frame of mind...
But hundreds of miles away, in an era long gone, a most unique place in sunny Singapore once existed which would have given so much justice to the phrase in that wall. Bugis Street in the 1950s to the 1980s was all food stalls, wet market and affordable restaurants in the light of day but when the darkness of night took over a most magical phenomenon took place. A parade of beautiful women dressed in the most flamboyant and provocative ensembles lit the place literally. They would sashay down the street, oblivious to the screaming and cajoling of the Western tourists and the locals but very very mindful of the potential amorous gaze of the moneyed Caucasian. There was only one twist to this event. The individuals who lent their presence to this Vaudeville were not real females. They were transsexuals and transvestites - boys who dared to cross the gender lines from their original masculine origin to the other side of the chasm.
Despite this transgression of gender norms, the "fashion" event and the "girls" were well-received by the Western boys and even caused such a stir in the international scene because of the simple fact that they were more beauteous than real women. There was an adage amongst Westerners that one could easily tell who was a real female and who was not - the transwomen were drop-dead gorgeous, while the rest were real women.
More importantly a most profitable trade flourished in this area. The transgirls would solicit "financial donations" from the half-drunk sailors, American GIs and other foreigners on rest and recreation in exchange for the thrill of intimacy with not only an exotic oriental but also the added spice of destroying gender boundaries in a steamy session. The income that the girls took in from their dealings gave the Singapore tourism industry a major boost.
But hundreds of miles away, in an era long gone, a most unique place in sunny Singapore once existed which would have given so much justice to the phrase in that wall. Bugis Street in the 1950s to the 1980s was all food stalls, wet market and affordable restaurants in the light of day but when the darkness of night took over a most magical phenomenon took place. A parade of beautiful women dressed in the most flamboyant and provocative ensembles lit the place literally. They would sashay down the street, oblivious to the screaming and cajoling of the Western tourists and the locals but very very mindful of the potential amorous gaze of the moneyed Caucasian. There was only one twist to this event. The individuals who lent their presence to this Vaudeville were not real females. They were transsexuals and transvestites - boys who dared to cross the gender lines from their original masculine origin to the other side of the chasm.
Despite this transgression of gender norms, the "fashion" event and the "girls" were well-received by the Western boys and even caused such a stir in the international scene because of the simple fact that they were more beauteous than real women. There was an adage amongst Westerners that one could easily tell who was a real female and who was not - the transwomen were drop-dead gorgeous, while the rest were real women.
More importantly a most profitable trade flourished in this area. The transgirls would solicit "financial donations" from the half-drunk sailors, American GIs and other foreigners on rest and recreation in exchange for the thrill of intimacy with not only an exotic oriental but also the added spice of destroying gender boundaries in a steamy session. The income that the girls took in from their dealings gave the Singapore tourism industry a major boost.
Not surprisingly the transgirls were not the only ones to put on a show in the area. There was a public lavatory which had a flat roof in the vicinity and without too much effort and in spite of being drunk many an Aussie, American or English lad or local ladyboy would climb up and put on an impromptu show. One such incident was when a U.S. sailor stripped and got up on the roof. He then rolled up a newspaper, stuck it in his ass and lit the newspaper whilst his mates took pictures! This event spurred on the "Dance of the Flaming Arseholes" tradition performed by drunk sailors. Supportive compatriots would clap and sing tunes while the actor performed on his make-believe stage.
Because booze was involved and alcohol clouds the mind, fights were not uncommon between conflicting parties. Usually it was between rival ships from the US Navy or US Navy versus the Royal Navy or sometimes with the involvement of the Australian Navy. Bottles would start flying all over the place and punches would be exchanged. The military police would get wind of this and they would soon turn up and make arrests.
These events all coalesce into the colorful and beautiful collage called Bugis Street. But the Singapore government took on a different perspective. The authorities eventually caught up to the legal trespassings of the delinquent sailors and the blatant flesh trade. Arrests were made and some of the Westerners were even dealt with severely and sent home. Singapore started to revamp the whole area in an effort to "clean up" their act but they earned the subtle criticism of the tourist and local population for doing so. Lamentation over the loss of this cultural staple pushed Singapore tourism chiefs to attempt to recreate some of the splendour of the old Bugis Street by staging articially contrived stage performances which never really matched up to the magnanimity of the real show put on years earlier by the gorgeous transwomen. The idea fizzled inevitably of course.
The spectacle that is Bugis will forever be etched in Singapore's history and for me, more significantly too, in the memories of men who have dared to cross the gender lines and sexual convention. Not only did this seemingly uneventful experience for the people who were really there to experience it all become such a cultural marvel years later, it also turned into a symbol of sexual revolution for people who assume that there are no other permutations in the basic human sexual act. The premise that man is meant for woman and woman is meant for man is a dilapidated and old-fashioned combination and should give precedence to other erotic equations. There are many ways to enjoy the sensual experience more than the so-called norms and the spectacle that is Bugis Street certainly mocked many sex bibles with all that transpired in this colorful area AND era of Singapore's historical strata and the world's sex diary.
NOTE: This spectacular article would never be possible without the help of DickRick who is my guardian/confidante in Singapore and Wikipedia and my lamentable head for putting the whole piece together despite being weary from booze LOL....Thank you so much....
Friday, November 9, 2007
the face of our time...
she is the most beautiful woman i have ever seen...period. I may not have seen her in person but it is enough that I have seen the worst of her too in pictures. The first time I saw her in her Calvin Klein ads on TV, I thought she was stunningly beauteous. I am not going butch by the way and i still adore men...looks, figure and stiffness in all the right areas hahahahahahhaha....
But Christy's face is divine and very very unique. In a profession where beauty is defined by nasal perfection, perfect skin, gorgeous soft hair and who Karl Lagerfeld fancies at the moment (LOL) she is not typical. A friend once told me that she really has all the right bones in the right places in her face and I second his comment. When you really dissect the various parts of her looks you can find imperfections. Lips too small? Eyes too wide? Nose looks fake? I don't know but when I look at the whole equation she is really aesthetically pleasing.
Metropolitan Museum of Art calls her "The Face of the 20th Century."
Perhaps the best description I keep of her which was also first quoted by another friend is "Her beauty grows on you...she does not look stunning at first but the more you look at her, the more you realize she is indeed sublimely pretty." Oh how can I in my endless search for beauty, ever match up to this woman???? LOL.
And her looks are way too deceptive over what she has achieved over the years. She has campaigned against smoking of which she was addicted to in the past but quit for good. She has moved products to the top of the world market...from lipglosses to yoga mats to garbs to magazines, she is a tour de force. But she will be best remember for being graceful when the negative aspects of her life were laid out for the world to see. Cognizance of your imperfections is an achievement and to admit it in public is revolutionary. Your vulnerabilities are visible for people to see and that is dare-devilish. She has championed being a public figure and being a private one too.
My admiration for her is indefinable and I have never found another Iron-Curtain fraulein or Brazilian bunda to match her magnetism...
i shall sing her praises forever. Well probably until....I can match her beauty an an impossible, intensive plastic surgery which will never happen LOL...
dry spell...
When you have been travelling through leagues and miles of arid, parched and unhydrated land you want to run into a comfort zone...an oasis comes to mind right? The soothing embrace of the cooler climate, flora that soothes the heat-myopic eye, and naturally the irreplaceable sensation of fluid touching your lips are among the sensory experiences we long for and almost expect to have when we run into this landscape...
But what if the castle we have built in the sands of our mind turns out to be a Hades of a place? What if the expectations we have built around it overlap reality by a seriously outrageous margin? In other words, what if the Disneyland we have envisioned, for our fun-loving selves, is overrated shite? The initial feeling of disappointment takes over and then once we get over that emotion, the instinct of flight takes over. To flee is a natural course of action. Perhaps another oasis awaits beyond our known horizons? Not within visibility range but nevertheless trusting gut feeling to push us to go forth blindly and hope we stumble into another verdant utopia is innate...
I want to get away from this mess called home. I thought I was going to have a more relaxed pace here but it seems people will not give me any kind of peace. Or maybe it's just my convoluted mind that is not allowing me to think clearly? Am I just imagining walls closing in on me and characters suffocating me? Or perhaps I really do need to take a break away from break???? Hahahaha does that even make sense? Because I thought this was going to be my vacation, my oasis. But it seems drought has long deprived this place of whatever moisture existed here in the past. I have run into another Gobi or Sahara...a desolate, God-forsaken, scorching, miserable devil's lair. The green pastures, milk and honey and manna for the starving in this biblical haven were mere illusions brewed by a clouded pulp of a brain...
I have to get away once again. This is no place for a manic-depressive, dyslexic and slightly obsessive-compulsive girl. I am raving incoherently once again....my apologies....
But what if the castle we have built in the sands of our mind turns out to be a Hades of a place? What if the expectations we have built around it overlap reality by a seriously outrageous margin? In other words, what if the Disneyland we have envisioned, for our fun-loving selves, is overrated shite? The initial feeling of disappointment takes over and then once we get over that emotion, the instinct of flight takes over. To flee is a natural course of action. Perhaps another oasis awaits beyond our known horizons? Not within visibility range but nevertheless trusting gut feeling to push us to go forth blindly and hope we stumble into another verdant utopia is innate...
I want to get away from this mess called home. I thought I was going to have a more relaxed pace here but it seems people will not give me any kind of peace. Or maybe it's just my convoluted mind that is not allowing me to think clearly? Am I just imagining walls closing in on me and characters suffocating me? Or perhaps I really do need to take a break away from break???? Hahahaha does that even make sense? Because I thought this was going to be my vacation, my oasis. But it seems drought has long deprived this place of whatever moisture existed here in the past. I have run into another Gobi or Sahara...a desolate, God-forsaken, scorching, miserable devil's lair. The green pastures, milk and honey and manna for the starving in this biblical haven were mere illusions brewed by a clouded pulp of a brain...
I have to get away once again. This is no place for a manic-depressive, dyslexic and slightly obsessive-compulsive girl. I am raving incoherently once again....my apologies....
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
VISUAL TREAT...
a treat for my VIP lounge members....full sets of each of these pictures....coming SOON!!!!
love this.....
Doors
Why do there have to be doors
Coz when u walked right out that door of mine
It made me wonder why there are tears
Where is the end to all of these tears
Where’s the face that use to cheer me up
Girl, that makes me wonder
Why does my heart just keep on beating
Why do my arms just keep on reaching
To someone who’s no longer there
What can I say besides I’m sorry
What can I say to change your mind
What can I do to make tomorrow yours and mine
Chairs
Why do there have to be chairs
It shows its empty now
There’s no one there
It really makes me wonder
Why does my heart just keep on beating
Why do my arms just keep on reaching
To someone who’s no longer there
What can I say besides I’m sorry
What can I say to change your mind
Why do I keep on holding on
A chance you’ll walk back through the door
When my heart knows there’s no hope anymore
Why do there have to be doors
Why do there have to be doors
Doors - Michael Johnson
Why do there have to be doors
Coz when u walked right out that door of mine
It made me wonder why there are tears
Where is the end to all of these tears
Where’s the face that use to cheer me up
Girl, that makes me wonder
Why does my heart just keep on beating
Why do my arms just keep on reaching
To someone who’s no longer there
What can I say besides I’m sorry
What can I say to change your mind
What can I do to make tomorrow yours and mine
Chairs
Why do there have to be chairs
It shows its empty now
There’s no one there
It really makes me wonder
Why does my heart just keep on beating
Why do my arms just keep on reaching
To someone who’s no longer there
What can I say besides I’m sorry
What can I say to change your mind
Why do I keep on holding on
A chance you’ll walk back through the door
When my heart knows there’s no hope anymore
Why do there have to be doors
Why do there have to be doors
Doors - Michael Johnson
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Saturday, November 3, 2007
caretaker...
if i am allowed to believe in ethereal beings (hint! hint!) I believe that somebody's invisible cloak envelops me everytime somebody does something adverse to me! whosoever owns that cloak warms me with thoughts that the misfortune that just took place would be succeeded by a more favorable circumstance perhaps ten times as rewarding than what I deserve! I know you think this is silly but this has happened to me on so many occasions that to think of serendipity would be sacrilegious!
Case in point, people have borrowed money from me many times or individuals have cheated me. Some have been gracious and punctual in terms of completing the transaction while others seem to pray for my amnesiac tendencies to increase with time. These phylum of individuals are good at letting the grace period of payment commence, without a word or whiff of their vociferous armpit smell. Then if I do meet them at one point they have skin as thick as a warthog's ass to act so relaxed in front of me.
This is not a letter of complaint or a chickensoup for the soul literature on the lack of sensitivity in some people. What I want to emphasize is the extraordinary phenomenon of life's natural course to balance things out in the end. Our lives suck but we have to stop and marvel at how an equilibrium seems to materialize when we view our negative situations from a wider chronological and sequential perspective! But of course not everyone is capable of this kind of thinking. Many will often just see their circumstance in life as giant cesspits from where they cannot get out. I am a bit different though. It seems that for me the positive events that follow a discouraging incident stand out because I recognize their presence and I have internalized the fact that without pain, nothing of a higher satisfaction can be gained. So far nothing has ever really shaken this relatively admirable personal trait and I hope nothing ever does make it perish for nothing is as important in life as knowing that when one stumbles, one is more than capable of getting up again and running twice or more times faster than that pace you mustered before you fell...
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