BOYTROPOLIS

Comelec, Ang Ladlad and the Filipino LGBT

Sun, 15 Nov 2009 14:26:01 GMT

Here are two fun words to start this article with:

1. Antidisestablishmentarianism - opposition to a movement separating the Church from the State, in support of forming a unified Church and State

2. Floccinaucilihilipilification - the act of estimating something as useless

These two are some of the longest words you can find in the English language. They are also convenient terms to be used when discussing the Comelec's decision to reject the LGBT partylist Ang Ladlad on grounds of moral corruption.

As some of you might care to know, the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender minority was again disallowed from proper representation in local government. The first time, they said it was because the Filipino pink community does not hold the requirements for a legitimate partylist (important things like marginalization and regional membership). This time, they reason it was because these same men and women are not top-of-mind choice for societal role models.

The key topics in this issue are religion, morality, minority, culture, equality and the law. Very hard subjects to discuss but let's attempt to address them one by one.

The righteous gentlemen at the Comelec, as well as their supporters, headline their statement with a few of God's purported maxims. It can be any of these lines: God hates the gays so we also hate the gays; God only sees men and women who identify as heterosexual; God will allow people to be gay as long as they pretend to be straight. Add some quotes from the Bible for "veracity" and we get a prejudiced thesis. But since this is a subject of faith, which is a personal matter to begin with, here is mine: I believe in a God who only holds the rule of love, and from this love will come forth respect toward other people. With respect there is compassion and understanding, a willingness to comprehend the unknown. Before the pious and the sanctimonious dismiss the God I believe in, please let me know: how do you justify that a discriminating God is the kind of entity mankind should believe in?

Morality in this day and age is a game of finger-pointing in hopes of determining who's riding the high horse. To be fair, let's consult Merriam-Webster: morality is "conformity to ideals of right human conduct". If facts and figures are to be believed, heterosexuals are guilty of everything homosexuals have committed. We talk of volunteerism, education, sacrifice, self-gratification, pedophilia, murder, child abuse. Human endeavors that define us as good or bad people. Save for same-sex intercourse, there is not much difference between the two sexual orientations. Why, then, is there a division between the moral conducts of a straight person from that of a gay person?

Since there is not much difference between the straight and the gay, this implies that the generally straight populace has absorbed the homosexual bloc, so entitlement as a minority is not only pointless but also special treatment. True, the number of overt gay men and women might be growing, but it is not sufficient enough to influence a population into mainstream acceptance, let alone be heard by the authorities. A relatively small group of people holding voice in a public forum makes a huge difference in the exchange of ideas. This is what minorities are about: hearing and getting heard. How do you pursue acceptance, one that is honest and not just polite, without the presence of information?

The country is dominantly Catholic. We are very conservative people. The Church influences the State. This is the kind of culture we currently live in. But do these factors hold us back or move us forward? And do we want to stay dormant or grow as a nation? Not every devout Catholic holds the same principles as those of his/her peers. Heck, we even have the term "non-practicing Catholic" and God knows if they outnumber the practicing ones. Have you seen the news? Have you read the papers? We are hardly conservative anymore. We mix together a potful of cultural identities from other lands and label it as "Proudly Pinoy". We are Westernized, modernized, globalized. Does this mean being Pinoy is living in a foreign era yet closing ourselves from foreign ideas?

"Equality among men and women" is the fight of the feminists, a minority represented by Gabriela. Why are the LGBT people struggling to be heard when they are men and women themselves? Because some people find the distinction between gender and sexual orientation difficult to grasp. To some people, we only have boys and girls. To some people, the boys-who-like-girls and girls-who-like-boys are getting the same rights as the boys-who-like-boys and girls-who-like-girls. This is true, but not all the time. If it does not happen all the time, it shows an imbalance leering toward the heterosexual. Is this a valid recognition of the homosexual? Should this be the way of life if equality is what we aim for?

And because the law only recognizes males and females, some benefit and protection clauses never reach the pink spectrum. For starters, a same-sex couple does not have the privileges granted by the Constitution to married couples. Convincing the Catholic Church to allow two women walking down the aisle is close to impossible, we give you that, but asking the State for civilian rights afforded by the majority is not tantamount to demanding for special privileges or solitary vacuums from legal responsibilities. If the law sees every individual with the same discerning eye, then why is it not applicable to every individual?

Do you still remember the two words I gave earlier? Disestablishmentarianism and floccinaucilihilipilification. The first long word is applicable to the current stance of the Comelec--hiding behind a facade of self-inflicted religious supremacy. The second long word is what the Comelec is making us do--estimate it as something that is useless.

oops i tweeted again

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 14:37:13 GMT

Dear Britney's management team,

Hi, it's me again, Christina "Genie In A Bottle" Aguilera. I hope you
got my previous email about Britney's account getting hacked, again.
Don't you ever get tired of being the butt of all jokes? I mean,
where's Chris Crocker when you need him? And does he know, like,
technical internet stuff? Maybe you can hire him to manage Brit Brit's
Twitter so she doesn't get penetrated so fast and easy like that
hooker from the "Gimme More" music video, which by the way wasn't racy
and slutty AT ALL compared to my "Dirrty" music video. You got that,
mamasita? I'm the bigger slut here so quit fooling around as if she
knows cocksucking like I do because you're only making her look like a
stupid chonga wannabe.

Anyway, sorry about that rant. I'm just getting really concerned about
this invasion of celebrity privacy. Why isn't anyone invading mine?!?
What is wrong with you people?!? Are my boobs not big enough for
you?!?

Just wait till my kid gets into preschool. In my next music video, I'm
showing my untrimmed vagina. Full frontal close-up let's see you try
beating THAT!

P.S. For the record, I'm the Illuminati girl here, not her. Will some
paparazzi please take my damn picture already?!?

Sending love with "The Voice Within",
Xtina

Posted via email from This Boy

tweet me baby one more time

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 14:00:43 GMT

Dear Britney's management team,

I'm not sure how your brains work but "1234" is not a secure password.
Surprise! Now please quit getting hacked because I feel for Britney.
She doesn't deserve to be fat and hacked at the same time!

Okay, I'm kidding. I love it when her account gets pwned by 4chan
interweb geeks. But next time, try using "password" as your password.
Nobody would ever guess that! I've been using it for years now and my
privacy only gets invaded every three days. Three days!

P.S. If you're really sneaky, replace the "o" with a zero, as in
"passw0rd". NOBODY will guess that, trust me. Unless you're dealing
with an Agent from The Matrix. If that's the case then you are so
fucked.

All my best,
Christina Aguilera

Posted via email from This Boy

"never give up on the good times" (spice girls, 1997)

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 08:44:27 GMT

The problem with most of us in Livejournal is we depended too much on each other. We made interesting entries because we expected to read interesting entries. We wrote drama because people liked it, aside from the truth that we liked to dwell in our own drama, and that for some weird reason Livejournal is conducive to writing drama (I would deduce that this is force of habit). When people got busy or got tired of the so-popular-it-deserved-its-own-term LJ drama or moved on to Tumblr, we started to speculate that Livejournal is dead. No. Michael Jackson is dead. A chick from the original Charlie's Angels is dead. Elvis is dead, or maybe alive and somewhere in Roswell, but Livejournal isn't dead. Because I'm still here, writing whatever or crossposting whatever, and you're still here reading. Something doesn't have to die because people, new social media or the organic flow of events dictated it.

Of course, I am not spewing ill will toward anyone who decides to quit Livejournal. I'm way mature than that, noh, and you can do whatever it is you desire. I'm just saying maybe this place can be great again and we can start achieving that by writing again.

rusty gandanghari

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 06:25:31 GMT

This is my cat, Rusty. Originally named Rustom Padilla and destined to die a fabulous death to be reincarnated as Bebe Gandanghari, until my mother was seen looking under the couch shouting "Rustom! Rustom! Rustooooom!" after which I proposed a moniker that sounded more like a household pet and less of a closet queen action star.

Rusty likes to sleep comfortably. His bedroom demeanor may imply alpha male proclivities (notice the laziness that comes with the extension of his furry paws) but rest assured I will do everything in my power to turn him as gay as Gloria Estefan. If you know of any downloadable gay porn for cats available online, please, let me know.

See the full gallery on posterous

Posted via email from This Boy

in lieu of guns and blackmail

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 04:09:56 GMT

When we say "there are better ways to win an argument" we usually mean "debate" but everybody knows that shit doesn't work outside the air-conditioned walls of a vandalized classroom. Everybody, except debaters who haven't had exposure to the disconcerting reality of Life Outside Debate. (And as much as I hate being a party pooper...are you ready for this? There is Life Outside Debate and someday you would need to stop debating.) Just wait until you find yourself explaining fourteen levels of argumentation to a boss who doesn't care about what you think. Now don't go on killing yourself once you discover that even after flawlessly rebutting every single point of a worried business contact, he closes a deal with the girl who sucks his dick after buying him lunch. And don't even think of completely losing it when you present that polished CV to an interviewer, shining-shimmering-splendid with debate cap feathers, then she proceeds to ask everything about you except--you guessed it--debate. Where's that feedback form when you need it?

This isn't to say debate is but a prolific waste of time. Hardly. This is only to say truth number two: nobody likes a know-it-all. Nobody likes a smartass. Nobody likes your academic superiority and nobody likes your academic snobbery. In Life Outside Debate, people will smile when you wax nostalgic of good old days spent reaching for speaker score 80 a.k.a. Jesus Christ Came Down From Heaven To Debate. These people will politely smile, listen intently and realize they couldn't give a shit.

And truth number three: don't talk too fast. People don't like that either.

See the full gallery on posterous

Posted via email from This Boy

hi yall! this my favorite tweet

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 04:16:27 GMT

See the full gallery on posterous

We've always known it's like a Brazilian cave down Britney's punani but what we didn't know is that this wondrous place of spelunking adventure is really a man-eating orifice with razor sharp teeth. I've always wondered what a Venus Flytrap would look like if it was a vagina and then, just like a universe conspiring to make my dreams come true, this happens. There are no pictures (sadly) but my visualization skills are a-maaay-zing cos I ain't no creative for nothing.

If you still want pictures, please google Brit Brit's shaved beaver photos (you horny motherfucker).

Posted via email from This Boy

the best piece of graphic design ever

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 04:16:01 GMT

And I don't even know this guy. Although he looks like an undercover sex maniac from Western Europe who preys on little boys and big girls (and when I say big I mean big fucking phat girls, political-correctness aside) but holds a day job at the local Red Cross center in Berlin or Amsterdam or anywhere prostitution is viewed as culturally awesome. I want to marry him and his Jamaican gradient and our wedding vows? It's all over his face.

(by www.andrewjohnstone.com)

Posted via email from This Boy

the tale of the one-eyed snake

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 04:14:59 GMT

English translation:

Even if he's virile as a leather-clad S&M daddy from the 80's, Dakota still felt shivers down his spine. "What is this delicious travesty growing between my legs?"

Darby, or Emmery, or whatever his name is because the image is too fucking blurred, was also shaken in disbelief. "Dude. Your dick is, like, turning into, you know, a snake or something. Sweeeet."

And then suddenly... "Hiissssssshh I will cum on your faces with the sperm of a thousand Japanese pervs if you do not give me a little BJ hiissssssshh!"

To be continued

Posted via email from This Boy

your non-efforts are appreciated

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 04:14:01 GMT

A thank-you note for the incompetent, the indifferent and the plain stupid.

(image from www.leighreyes.com)

Posted via email from This Boy

our office's 11th floor lobby

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 04:13:15 GMT

The corporate mash-up of a cinema hallway, museum, Toys "R" Us and your friendly neighborhood park that moonlights as a cruise spot. One (that one being me) could only wish they turn it into a smoking area. Or a coffee shop. Or maybe just a smoking area.

Posted via email from This Boy

over it

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 15:48:59 GMT

As in, I am so over it. Change has finally come to good old me and the things I used to know and love and hate and cannot live without, they have been filed away in the ugliest plastic folder that National Bookstore has in stock.

My legion of fans might wail in desperation as I announce today that I'm officially over with being dramatic. I simply cannot bear the sight of four people crying, maybe three if the other one is already over me, but sometimes and more so eventually, declarations would need to be released to an imaginary public. Yep, boys and gays: the drama queen has finally retired his career. My time is now spent on admiring the shelves of awards accumulated over the years. One favorite in particular is this trophy I got for the episode "Falling In Love For Two Years With The Concept Of A Lover And Getting My Heart Broken In The Process". Good times.

There is also one less person in the meat market and one less profile in most popular gay personals websites. Believe me when I say, dads and sons, that the pink community can shut me off at least temporarily from its rainbow-tinted gaydar while I pursue other interesting hobbies such as drunken flirting with cab drivers or shopping for books but never reading them or googling synonyms for words such as "jaded" and "cynical".

The profoundly hysterical subculture that is misleadingly called "Philippine debate community" might also remain indifferent with the intrapersonal affirmation that I am over competitive debate. See, geeks and closet gays? It is possible to accept that life has so much more to offer than trading back issues of The Economist. The only downside to forgetting I was once a debater is also forgetting to visit the BBC website and instead waste my time reading old posts at chuvaness.com while crafting a (hopefully) knee-slapping, face-palming, side-splitting tweet. Log on to twitter.com/barnyrivera for more info.

Don't you ever get the wrong idea that my life has turned peachy overnight. It was a long, painful process which I would rather not describe in detail but in rather abstract concepts: Wind blows my hair now / I stare into the sky now / Sun is now shining. An amateur poet can seriously kick my ass but I'm also over that fact and besides who the fuck reads haiku.

I'm over drinking to get drunk, I'm over monthly rations of wanton coitus, I'm over friends turning into sudden strangers, I'm over the constant yearning for an intellectual audience, I'm over whining and complaining and forced submission, I'm over whatever it is you might have done to me but rest assured it will be carved in my heart forever and you will be properly labeled in morally demeaning terms.

The only bad thing about being over a lot of things is there is nothing more to blog about. What am I supposed to do, write about how happily wasted I was at last night's party?

good advice

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 14:54:14 GMT

Don't forget. Don't you ever forget.

TO THE YOUTH:

YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW BAD LIFE GETS YET. YOU ARE BLESSED, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, YOU ARE LOVED. I KNOW YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO UNDERSTAND IT NOW, BUT THE MOST IMPORTANT THINGS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM. JUST KNOW THAT YOU ARE NOT ALONE, WE ALL FEEL THE SAME INSIDE, THINGS WILL WORK OUT IN THE END, DON’T LOSE HOPE WHEN YOU ARE STILL SO YOUNG, AND THE WORLD CAN STILL GO IN YOUR FAVOR. NOTHING POSITIVE IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO YOU BY SITTING HERE ON THE COMPUTER ALL DAY. BE PROACTIVE, WORK AT YOUR FAULTS, TALK TO LOVED ONES WHO YOU MAY ONE DAY LOSE, AND LOOK AT LIFE AS A BEAUTIFUL GIFT, BECAUSE NO MATTER HOW YOU LIVE IT, DEATH IS NOT BIASED. WE WILL ALL ONE DAY BE GONE, SO LIVE THE BEST YOU CAN. ALL IS NOT LOST. JUST REALIZE HOW BEAUTIFUL YOU ARE AND THAT THE WORLD IS YOURS FOR THE TAKING. DON’T EVER FORGET HOW IMPORTANT YOU ARE.

I LOVE YOU.

(http://blogsecret.tumblr.com/post/202628603/11067-to-the-youth)

some stuff i have and have not done as of recent

Wed, 23 Sep 2009 12:16:47 GMT

Not a lot, but we'll manage. Or try to manage, since time management was never a strong suit.

Bought an inordinate number of books that will probably take a year to finish. Still not even halfway through Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's Good Omens and it's been over a month since I bought it. Want to start with Warren Ellis' Crooked Little Vein because Joss Whedon gave it a good review at the back of the book and Joss Whedon rules because he made Buffy the Vampire Slayer, of which I had a season six marathon the previous weekend. It was good.

Getting slightly addicted (because addicts never admit their addiction) with Twitter. For real? I'm only blogging now because I don't want this journal to die, and I can't think of anything to tweet.

Having trouble writing. I hate myself when I write. Hate hate hate myself. I call myself a writer, I work as one, but I don't feel like one. Was never really a fan of self-pity (this dude is more of the angsty-depressed kind) and I believe I'm one hell of a good writer--remember, kids, to always believe in yourself!--but I don't know, I'm in some sort of funk. Maybe there's just nothing interesting to write about. Nothing interesting in my life, unless you wanna hear how hopelessly jaded I've become. I'm choosing if "jaded" or "practical" or "realistic" or "beyond clever" is the right term to use.

I'm also kind of wondering why I still haven't memorized Taylor Swift's "You Belong With Me" even after playing it continuously for two days during work hours. Maybe after three, four?

One day I'll make sense again, I promise.

time for a reroute

Sun, 06 Sep 2009 15:34:00 GMT

As corny and as pretentious as this sounds...

I think I need to find myself again.

I got lost in the world of routine, morning traffic, bills, internet distractions, social networking, bookstores, expensive coffee, professionalism, corporate issues, new friends, old friends, false appearances, interpersonal politics, shaky relationships, jadedness, hopelessness...

All of that is not me.

I know who I am.

I'm going back to it.

eulogy to a stranger

Fri, 04 Sep 2009 14:14:25 GMT

For some strange reason I am greatly affected by Alexis Tioseco's death. I have never met this guy. I do not know this guy before he was murdered. It only took a few Google searches to see for myself who he is and how important people like him are in this country.

He had passion. Passion to change something, turn it from something bad into something great. Something everyone thought was close to impossible. He believed. And God knows how hard it is to hang on to a belief, when everyone around you would rather choose to quit, or when things happen that make you feel all your efforts are worthless, fated. He believed he can make a difference and strived hard to do it.

He wrote to incite change, to provoke emotions, and all of this--the writing, the dedication--put to a stop by some senseless mad man. My heart broke because he wasn't able to see the change he wanted to see. We can say his efforts weren't put to waste but why would anyone deserve to die like that?

Last night, Cory Quirino was relaying his experience being kidnapped. She was held captive for around 19 hours and things got worse hour after desperate hour. She said, "Huwag na natin kuwestiyunin ang Diyos." She said it because all those things that happened to her during the ordeal, even if situations got worse, they all led to her freedom.

Maybe Alexis' death serves as a reminder for people like me to never stop believing and that only death can stop a person from fulfilling his dreams. He may have died brutally but his death gave birth to hopefully a hundred, a thousand or a million awakenings. That no matter what happens, we don't stop moving forward. We go on and do what we feel is right, what we think is for the betterment of everybody.

Nobody that unselfish, that passionate for change deserves a dark ending to a life so young. But if this...this thing that happened to him should bear fruit to make his dream come true, if it moves us from our seats and gives us our wake-up call...then Alexis, my dear unknown friend, you did not leave this earth in vain.

see ya saturday

Thu, 27 Aug 2009 15:32:09 GMT

Aurora, Bambu Spliff, Calla Lilly, Collie Herb, Duster, Electric Superfox, Falling at Zero Degrees, Imago, Mom’s Cake, Paraluman, Peacepipe, Pedicab, Playphonics, Rare-Fi, Razorback, Severo, Skabeche, The Bernadettes, The Camerawalls, The Coffeebreak Island, True Faith, Turbo Goth.

Tara!

I am

Mon, 24 Aug 2009 03:05:32 GMT

officially burned out

big time na ko

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 03:55:37 GMT

Apparently, I hung out with Perez Hilton and Lady Gaga in Tokyo.

(From here)

Neon doesn't look too good on me, no?

THW proliferate weapons of ass destruction

Thu, 30 Jul 2009 03:51:41 GMT

For Round 3 of the Australasian Interversity Debating Championships 2009, the theme was "Sexuality". People who know me knows that the debates I am most interested in include sex. Pornography, pedophilia, gender reassignment, whatever--as long as it remotely involves your lovely sexual fun holes and poles. Kindly take a look at the motions for Australs Round 3:

1. That the gay rights movement should not support the institution of marriage.
2. That we should recognize the right of religious groups to discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation.
3. That sexual education classes at school should include, but not be limited to: sexual orientation, anal sex, mutual gratification and masturbation.

Wouldn't I just love to debate that third motion. I don't even care if I get placed on Affirmative or Negative side. I don't give a shit if the parameters were set in elementary school. And the people who know me, they'd know I would just LOVE to defend the necessity of a fifth grader to learn the nooks and crannies of anal sex. Yes kids, that's the kind of world we live in.

my catch-22

Sun, 12 Jul 2009 05:28:23 GMT

Last night I told Fatima that I am starting to crush on this common friend of ours, then she suddenly goes on a rattle about how I should be careful with his feelings and shit. This spontaneous bout of unsolicited advice overshadowed my revelation of romantic-but-mostly-sexual thoughts about the common friend, primarily because she revealed a longtime suspicion I've been harboring...that some people, regardless of their affinity toward me, think I am a heartbreaker.

I mean, dude, I just told her: I think I am crushing on ____ right now. And then she reacts with: Huh? Why? And then without skipping a breath she says something like: I gotta tell you, if you're going to go after him you better be careful with his heart. It went something like that and then she doesn't tell me why I should tiptoe instead of walk, she just tells me that I leave my heartbreaking skills at bay.

First off, what heartbreaking skills? It's my heart that always gets trampled and turned into fertilizer. Why would people warn me about my ways and means of romantic pursuit?

Secondly, what romantic pursuit? I never go after the guys I like. The few times I did it just ended in agony (mostly on my part) so I ceased to bother. Fatima continues by saying that she thinks this minor infatuation won't last because that's how I am programmed. She's right. However, I can't predict my own actions, so she's not that right.

It really concerns me that people have this impression that I toy with other people's hearts. I don't. Maybe that's why nobody ever asks me out. I look like trouble waiting to happen.

writing for the sake of

Tue, 23 Jun 2009 07:13:51 GMT

During "Drag Me To Hell" I told my friends that I can't seem to write if I know I'm not getting paid for it. It was meant as a joke. Now it doesn't feel like one.

("I started a joke...but the joke was on me..." Chos.)

Last night I had the greasiest cheeseburger meal of my life. McDonald's Valero served me the greasiest fries and the greasiest burger in the world that even thinking of it gives me nausea.

Last night while waiting for my ride home along Ayala, I saw my Buendia Commute Crush (BCC) sitting at the back of a passing LRT Taft-Baclaran bus, which would be MY ride home. The BCC is a tall chinito guy with little facial hair and a shaved head, kind of like one of the guys in "The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift" except I haven't seen that movie and I just thought he'd fit in the cast because he looks Japanese. This BCC boards the same jeep that I do every morning so we have been together at some point for about three times on separate occasions. Once I saw him come out of the nearby Mini Stop eating ice cream from a cone. Then last night I saw him at the bus, he was up there at the farthest seat in the back and I was down there in the pavement. He saw me first. I think we're soulmates.

My cat got involved in a self-inflicted accident less than 24 hours since his arrival at my house. Thanks, Mom.

How do I put this delicately...I am disjointed, just like this blog post.

some really random sunday shit

Sun, 14 Jun 2009 11:11:05 GMT

Someone asked me today why I am single. Rather than telling him I'm a complicated guy that scares most guys than attract them, I told him I am single because I don't meet guys and that I make no effort to meet guys. True story. When I had the free time I didn't meet any potential dates; how would I meet some now that I am absorbed in work five days a week, and when my weekends are mostly spent with friends going out on heterosexual places doing heterosexual things? I had better luck meeting guys when I'm walking alone in Salcedo Village or in Glorietta, seriously. There have been a few times when my friends would set me up on dates. These few times went nowhere; one of them even died. (Rest in peace, Gene.) Still I feel a slight tinge of excitement when friends set me up on dates because

a) friends are supposed to know your taste in men
b) friends would know these men they set you up with, therefore a backgrounder is possible to attain
c) I can't set a date myself, so somebody has to do it for me

(Okay, the guy I am watching on cam just reclined and now I can see him fondling his schlong under his white brief. Just saying.)

I have probably exhausted the powers of the internet when it comes to meeting men. Or maybe, it has exhausted me. Bottomline is, sure there are nice guys out there logging onto the newest gay personals site. But I am done going through all that. It gets tiring after a long while.

(Okay, he just laid back again, for like one second, and then went back up. Maybe to type something to his co-webcam exhibitionist?)

Another random shit that I want to whine about: why is it that when you find a nice guy, chances are he's

a) your friend
b) your future friend
c) your friend's friend
d) a douchebag, really

Sometimes, I want to ask my friends to help me find guys like them so I could get back on the dating scene. Hell, sometimes I want to ask my friends out. But isn't that awkward? Knowing this person for years and then suddenly seeing him in a different light? (Maybe red light for more beerhouse action?)

(Did I mention that this guy is naked except for the white underwear and a string necklace with a fang dangling from it? Or maybe it's a small seashell. Either way it's so tacky of him.)

Truthfully, the only reason I want to get back into the dating scene is to save what is left of my optimism after losing interest in meeting anyone for the possibility of a romantic relationship. I used to have high hopes of getting that happily-ever-after ending, and I still do, and my awareness of possibly finding that elusive lover anywhere is still intact. There is just that scary thought of being completely jaded. I don't want that.

(Next time, when somebody asks me why I am single, I'd say I'm too busy watching exhibitionists rub their crotches online.)

..........

EDIT: I just reread this entry and felt stupid, haha. Why do I still talk about these things?!

"we invented post-its"

Thu, 11 Jun 2009 08:07:10 GMT

Brilliant!

salvation, or the lack of it

Sat, 06 Jun 2009 13:43:59 GMT

My mother is constantly finding new ways to drive me insane. It's been years since she converted to the dark side of the Catholic bloc, i.e. the Protestants. (No offense to the Protestants, I have many close friends who have joined your ever growing force and I almost got sucked in back in college.) This comes as no problem, which is pretty weird because I come from a clan that sanctified religion religiously. My deceased grandmother used to walk on her knees in Baclaran. My aunt is the superstar evangelist of the local parish. My mother, having worked overseas for a very long time, one day came, years ago, with no belief in the Virgin Mary, rosaries, saints and the Sign of the Cross.

Given how forceful my tenacious grandmother could get, even as a young child I expected a world war that invoked all of heaven's angelic armies. But no. Nothing happened. They accepted my mom and her newfound belief like it was tikoy on Chinese New Year.

On the other hand, I am no flaming cross-dresser (given their idea that all cross-dressers end up with a curling iron), I have proven my intellect and potential but the kin still have trouble grasping my sexual orientation. But this is so not my story.

My mother came back to retire a couple months ago. After living with my grandmother for years, feuding endlessly with my brother for even more years, and being my own source of valuable and practical lessons in life, suddenly a parental figure is living with me in the house, or at least until I decide to move out. Suddenly, someone is asking me why I'm coming home late. Suddenly, someone is asking for my share of the bills. Suddenly, someone is innocently dropping pamphlets of "Accepting Homosexuality in the Family" in the coffee table. But this is not the problem, and this is so not the story.

I remember a debate I was in earlier this March. It was something about Philippine televangelism: loud, obnoxious men and women on local television endlessly defaming other sects and force-feeding you their interpretations of the Bible. My side argued that televangelism has helped the promulgation and development of the Catholic Church, and then some more debate bullshit. We won this round but of course I didn't believe a word I said in this debate.

You see, I'm the kind of person that respects another person's beliefs. You want to worship a tree? Sure. You think Satan is your best friend? Great. Oh, you don't believe in God? That's cool, just don't be a dick and tell me my God doesn't exist.

My mother, the Born-Again Christian, will wake up and tune the television to one of those fucking televangelists and go about the house doing her thing. This is after I wake up a few minutes earlier, tune the TV to Channel V and hope that Kelly Clarkson's latest video comes on. This, being the only time I ever use that stupid TV after I started working 10-hour days and come home late only to sleep. And when the TV isn't on any one of those moronic channels, it's on Channel 2 with her primetime telebida stars.

Then, at night, she'd turn the portable radio to AM frequency and tune to radio evangelicals who say exactly the same thing that their TV counterparts do. Being a disciple of mass communication, I certainly have no problems whatsoever with strange people using media to express their ideas. However when these same ideas get dragged and stretched over and over, when these same people say the same preachings and same opinions repetitively all day, everyday, any damn day, we're gonna have a problem. And when you live with a person that supports that kind of activity...

I have no problems with my mother's belief but for the love of God, give me a fucking break.