Friday, December 29

ni hao BEiJiNG! part 1 {which means there might be a part 2... if i ever get my Lazy ass toresize pictures and upLoad them on friendster!}

too Lazy to make a proper update. but i promise iLL update Later! thats a super promise... so here are the pics i took in beijing! enjoy! {why does this paragraph has so many excLamation points?!?}

first, i'd Like ya'LL to meet my traveL companion in beijing nina. nina's this superkewL bitch who can backpack anywhere. and when i say anywhere peopLe, i mean anywhere! we
once backpacked in the middLe of nowhere in southern china two winters ago. we were the onLy foreigners in the viLLage and peopLe were Looking weird at us and they had thisPhil_nina_1 whattheheLLwereyoutwothinkincominuphere Look on their faces. we stayed in a crummy hoteL {which wasn't reaLLy a hoteL coz it was the viLLage Leader's hut or summat} with no bathroom {there was a pubLic toiLet} but the best part was there was a Lone pub over the next mountain with a karaoke system that has fiLipino songs! in the middLe of fuckin nowhere!!!! ahhh those were the days. this winter, nina and i are spending 5 days in beijing.


ok foLks, before we go any further, Let's taLk about beijing for a bit. most peopLe know that beijing is the host of the 2008 oLymics and that's about it. beijing is the capitaL of china and is one of the most popuLous cities in the worLd with over 15 miLLion peopLe inhabiting the metro. it's the second largest city in china {second onLy to shanghai} and is the is the political, cultural, and educational center of the country.

ok, nuff of the LoneLy pLanet hoopla, if you wanna know more about beijing you can check the LoneLy pLanet

now, when yer traveLLin to beijing, we aLLs gotta think about food, coz food is way too important not to think about. when in beijing, you wouLdn't have to worry if yer ever gonna Lack on your major food groups and shit coz beijing has Loads and Loads and Loads and shitloads of food. not onLy you get the traditional chinese food, but you'LL aLso find western grease, russian, indian, mediterrenean, arabic, japanese, korean, itaLian and even fusion. the prices vary though, it can be ridicuLousLy cheapo to insaneLy expensive. here are some of the food we ate. website information on beijing. now back to the pics.

a good way to start yer first day in beijing is with grease, grease and Lotsa Lotsa grease! after visiting the embassy area, nina and i saw this tgif resto and we couLdnt heLp but be drawn in and eat good oLd fashion burgers and fries. good Lord, you gotta Love'm fries. oh by the way in china, t.g.i.f. means thank GOODNESS its fridays. funny eh? PRICE {rather expensivo}, but the grease was worth it.

now if yer on a mighty tight budget that even a butt pLug can't penetrate, i suggest you eat this ..... cheapeeyayayaaay. with shitLoads of that, you can even fart beethoven's ninth symphony, twice.



when yer in beijing, you have to NOT MISS eating beijing kaoya which is the de facto officiaL food of the city. it might be super greasy and shit, but the grease is aLL worth it i teLL ya. and it sure as heLL beat then american hamburgers. beijing kaoyas are cooked using preparations and methods that have been passed on through centuries. one thing i Like about the beijing kaoya is the shiny Look and the way its prepared in front of you.

Beijing_duck1_copyPRICE {can vary from moderateLy cheapo to fuckin mucho expensivo}

of course, if the beijing duck is waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too foreign for yer tastes peopLe, you couLd aLways stick to the official chinese food that every joe/juan/pedro/dmitry/consueLo/ingrid/heLmut schmoe of the worLd orders whenever he/she/in transition is in a chinese restaurant - THE PROVERBIAL SWEEET AND SOUR PORK. {moderateLy cheapo}Sweetsourpork

or you couLd go adventurous by trying out the spicy ones...

PRICE {moderateLy cheapo}

or you couLd go insane by trying to eat this...


PRICE {moderateLy cheapo}

darn, i didn't get to try them barbecued scorpions in wanfujing street. weLL, there's aLways a next time.

oh yeah, the sites. nina, and i didn't go to the major tourist spots since we've aLready seen them. this time, we decided to go to the not so touristy sites Like the beijing naturaL history museum, the beijing night scene in houhai and sanLitun, of course them restos and the shopping disctricts in beiing.

here are some of the pics that i took whiLe on the road.


this sign just greeted me one morning.


beijing is famous for her gates that are mushroomed aLL over the city. this one is the qianmen gate just south of the tiananmen square.


one thing that i'LL miss about beijing are them hutongs or aLleyways which are fast disappearing. hutongs, in my opinion {and many others for that matter} is the souL of oLd beijing. its reaLLy sad to see them hutongs disappear and get repLaced by highrise condominiums and residentiaL compLexes.


the tube {subways or metros} is absoLuteLy the best and the cheapest way to go around beijing. aLmost aLL the major tourist site in beijing is accessibLe by metro. just don't ever ride the subways during rush hour or prepare to experience the beijing crush.


i saw this reaLLy kewL fish muraL when nina, terry and i were waLking one night in the houhai bar district. this was just beside a cafe and a noveLty shop. i couLdn't resist taking a snap. weLL i kinda took Lotsa it.


a totaLLy kewL kickass name for a pub.


mamooth tusks at the beiing museum of naturaL history. btw, if yer traveLLing to beijing, the naturaL history museum is reaLLy worth a Look. the $4 ticket is weLL worth it.


i can hear the nationaL geographic themesong pLaying in my head right now.


dino overLoad. maaaaaaaaan, if i were into dinosaurs, i wouLd've creamed in me pants back there.


a picture of a perfectLy heaLthy human specimen at the beijing museum of natural history. may he rest in peace.


sorry. i just couLdn't heLp it.


nina joining the fray, she's trying to shake katie's hand.
ok, so we didn't see suri hoLmes cruise. whatev. more to cum, hopefuLLy. i'm knackered.

Thursday, November 23


dear mr./ms./mrs. universe...

i never thought you had compassion for me. aLL my Life i've aLways thought that i was just this brown joe shmoe {who works as a part time hoe. ehehehe, ok, i know that was corny so sue me}. but then again, Life is waaaaay too mysterious for my brain ceLLs to understand.

behind aLL the buLLshit and the rough exterior, is a scrawny LittLe boy who Likes cartoons and tocino and good pre-pubescent sex!

truth be toLd, i am scared shitLess. but that don't mean i won't jump. i'm just scared of heights. but then again, i have a harness.

this might just be possibLe... and i couLd hear some cheesy Love song pLaying in my head right now. and you wanna know something? i think i don't want it to stop.

so there. once again universe, make me stupid. make me faLL fLat on me face with a gigantic mound of cowturd greeting me 'heLLo!' i submit. you van defiLe me aLL you want for your entertainment pLeasure... but don't Let the fuckin music stop. because you owe me that one at Least.

and by the way, thanks. i never thought that you had a heart...

Thursday, November 9


is/was my birthday {at Least in this part of the worLd it is}. truth be toLd, i hate birthdays. it's just another reminder for me that mortaLity is right around the corner and i better make haste in working in the fieLds so that i might be abLe {hopefuLLy} to reap what i have sown. aside from the mortaLity bit, i have come to not Like birthday parties because of some unsavory events in my past birthday parties. i have been receiving greetings from friends and famiLy, which i somehow appreciate {in a weird kinda way} even though i don't Like to remember my birthday. my vox neighbors nina and sunny keep saying it's just a number. it proLLy is, but i have yet to find the wisdom the wisdom of those words. i proLLy wiLL someday, when i'm saggy and geriatric and drinking my margaritas on a beach in antartica.

Last night, i have decided to make this day toLerabLe if not speciaL. i didn't want to ceLebrate, i mean, what for? jaded as i am, i reaLized that i am not THAT jaded. i stiLL am a cLoseted romantic {not the hoLLywood kind though}. i decided to make it a bit speciaL just a bit.

i reaLized that for the past 28 years {yes i'm 28 but i feeL Like i'm pushing 60 and beyond}, i have been ceLebrating my birthdays the same oLd way, and it's kinda getting oLd {pun intended}. you know, food, booze, iLLegaL substances, porn, human sacrifice, orgies, the proverbiaL birthday cake with them candLes Lit and i have to bLow the damn thing without spitting on it, yadda yadda. i decided to make my birthday this year different. no parties. no booze. no food. and no friggen cake with them candLes!

i decided to fast on my birthday. yes, a birthday fast. i started Last night at the stroke of midnight right after my sister caLLed me from caLifornia crying her eyes out {she's currentLy in the middLe of a messy divorce and by yoda i don't Like her sniveLLing-two-timing-greedy-soon-to-be-ex-husband-sLash-crackhead who i hope chokes on his toast right now}.

a birthday fast. i wiLL not eat anything soLid, anything chewabLe for the whoLe day. so far i've onLy "drank" oatmeaL and i wasn't abLe to finish it. and oh yes, Lemonade and water too. so far i'm doing ok, Like i haven't fainted or anything. in fact i was abLe to cLean me fLat and do the Laundry and wash dishes whiLe Listening to baden-poweLL {bossa nova is da bomb! i am so going to braziL when i'm friggen Loaded. maybe i'LL die there whiLe dancing samba in the middLe of sao paoLo wearing nothing but a band aid on me private parts. *Omar crosses his fingers}.

anywaaay, ennuf of braziL. why fasting, you ask. coz i've been eating for 28 god damn years! and i'm tired of it. no i don't have an eating disorder. i just wanted to, weLL for the Lack of a better word, make this day god damn toLerabLe.

and one more thing. you know i am not a reLigious person. i am cathoLic, oh yes {and i'LL aLways be, i reckon} but i am no saint. i respect reLigion in any form. i actuaLLy find it interesting and in many ways, profound. but reLigion is not my cup of jizz, i reckon. i do beLieve in jesus christ, and buddah and aLLah and the madonna {the mother not the singer, but yeah the singer kicks major ass too}, joseph, moses, david and jonathan, krishna and aLL them good peopLe who waLked this earth and spread goodness Like it was some fLyer for starbucks. and i beLieve in god. but these things {if ya can caLL'em things}, they're not reLigion. bah, i don't wanna have a Lecture on theoLogy and spirituaLity so i better stop. STOP!

ok there. yeah, i am not reLigious but i think that there is something "higher" than me, than this, this, this... reaLity i am condemned or thrown or existing or {insert any word here} in. be it god, the universe, the cosmos, karma, whathaveyou, i beLieve that there is a higher power or rather a higher consciousness that connects peopLe, things, the weather, Life in generaL.... the cosmos... Like we are aLL interconnected or woven from a singLe thread. it's Like myspace {ugh} where everybody is connected to tom {seriousLy, who wouLd have THAT many friends? even the friggen pope doesn't have that number of devout foLLowers}. anyways, yeah jeez i keep getting sidetracked i shouLd buy myseLf a one track mind for the Life of me {they don't have it at waLmart yet}. ok stop. STOP!


fasting. interconnectedness. cosmos. myspace. i wanted to fast because i wanted to make a wish. weLL, wishes actuaLLy. actuaLLy they're not my wishes per se. they're Like hopes and dreams. or my hopes and dreams for the peopLe i know and care about. {yes, i do have mushy moments}. it's Like this prayer, onLy more personaL, more sacred {for me it is} and more profound {ditto}.

for the past 20 something hours whiLe i have been trying to empty my body, i have aLso been trying to empty my mind. reLeasing thoughts of any kind to the cosmos hoping that it wouLd be heard or grasped or understood or even feLt by someone or some thing eLse. i was praying... i have been praying... i stiLL am as i type this bLog entry.

what am i praying for?

many things, i guess...

for my sister in caLifornia who is in the middLe of this messy divorce. for my parents to grow oLd and happy {reaL happy}, for my sibLings and their daughters and sons to have Live a good Life. for my 2 bestfriends to have the happiness and success they deserve. for a friend who feeLs he's Lost right now. for a friend who hopes to have her SRS within 10 years. for a friend who's in a midLife crisis. for a friend who has just found his freedom. for a friend who's recovering. for a friend who has diabetes. for a friend who has a heart condition. for a friend who has a Lump in his brain. for a friend who's going to coLLege. for a friend out of work. fora friend who's burned out. for two friends who had a faLLing out. for a friend who has faLLen out of Love. for a frien in Love. for a friend who's finding Love. for a friend who has found Love. for my friends in London, france, serbia, jamaica, austria, scotLand, newcastLe, austraLia, indonesia, maLaysia, singapore, the states, spain, china, phiLippines, guam, japan, canada and a whoLe Lotta other pLaces. for worLd peace {i stiLL beLieve in it}. for africa. for aids. for iLiteracy. for chiLd Labor. for the environment. for the middLe east. for mindanao. for my coconut repubLic. for hunger and sickness. for truth. beauty. freedom. Love. for justice. for civiL Liberties. for brotherhood and sisterhood. for dreams. for today. for tomorrow.

i'm no saint, so don't get me wrong. but even sinners and Losers pray. or hope for something better.

Saturday, October 21

on marjorie {The Confessions of an Insomniac XII }

marjorie was my first highschool crush. yeah, my first highschool crush was actually a girl. don't look surprised, i too, was once in highschool. so, yeah {kiLL me aLdrin!}. i dunno why i had this huge crush on her. thing is, she was not even the hottest girl in my highschool. if you'd rank her, she'd be somewhere between numbers 31-40 on the top 100 girls in my school {that included the grade 6 elementary students {psycho}. ok. not bad. still she was not the hottest. but. there's something about marjorie. {no it's not the gel product she used from time to time! perves!} she was, well, kinda white. like pale white. like emily rose white. back in highschool, i had this fixation over white skin {sue me, i'm filipino and i was exposed to fucking whiteness all the time! white bread. white school uniform. white milk {?! duh}. white commercial models. white teenybopper heartthrobs. white chocolate. white this. white that. yadda yadda yadda}. and she had freckles. back then {well maybe until now, i really don't know} if you had freckles in a tropical country, yer a thing of beauty {freckled people all around the world move to me coconut republic! don't mind the mega typhoons and the political upheavals! bask in the adoration of well, UNFRECKLED PEOPLE}. and back then, when i was young, innocent {slap me} and pure {?}, she was my thing of beauty. marjorie.

first year highschool. i saw her. her section was just beside mine

{a note to the non-filipino reader: most schools in me republic have no homerooms, we have sections named after saints, flowers, trees, popstars, breakfast cereals, corrupt government officials, designer labels and historical figures}

so yeah, only a wall that held two blackboards {which were green!} seperated me and marjorie. that was romance for me. like you and me against the blackboards. i saw her the first time during recess of my first day in my freshman year. for the first time in my life - i did a double take on a GIRL. i was like, whoa. freckles... hmmmm. freckles... {imagine homer simpson thinkin about eating the 100 cheese slices of america in his fridge}.

i found out that she was related to some famous child actress who studied in my school and she transferred to this school yadda yadda because they had to move yadda yadda yadda.

marjorie. it sounded like margarine. she had long hair. cute button nose. about my height. and them freckles. hmmmmmm, 100 cheese sclices of america freckles. i wuz in lurrrve.

ok, lemme divulge a little secret. i was a big nerd in my school. i was lanky. scrawny {still am by the way}. athletically challenged. and catholic. in the great cosmology of my lil old highschool in manila, i was but a some peasant who secretly adored them gods and godesses and minor dieties - them varsity players, them cheerleaders, them guys rappin to vanilla ice {ew} and mc hammer {ew}, them guys who danced to venga boys music {!}, them rockers and pre-emo's who were considered stoners just 'coz they looked like stoners and the janitor {well, the janitor has a lot, i mean a whole lotta powers... so don't mess with the campus help!}. i was a geek who really wanted to be super kewl and secretly wished that i was one of them. but i was not. but marjorie was. there lay the big problem. even though a mere blackboard seperated us, we were very very much worlds apart. and it pained me.

i remember writing her a love letter. i didn't know how it got to her and i don't really remember if i gave it or left it or put it in a book summat or told a person who told a person who gave it to the other person and gave it to her whatnot but marjorie got hold of me loveletter.

she replied.

i read.

she said.

the usual spiel.

thank you for the letter... very flattered... you seem nice... somebody's courting me. mark... your classmate... i'd like us to be friends... if that's ok...

i didn't cry. coz i read it on my desk. i thought i wanted to cry back then but somehow, the primal male instict got a hold of me. never cry {beats chest and gives a masculine huff, then looks at the mirror to fix the bangs}. but it pained me. i was crestfallen. i put the letter in my backpack after i read it. coming dismissal at 4 pm, the letter would find its way to the trash can. the janitor probably read it.

my first year in highschool. my first crush. my first heartbreak.

life went on in my highschool. then came my sophomore or junior year, i really don't remember. us geek peasants managed to find a way to climb the social ladder even for one notch. apparently, the supposedly "brainy" students can be trusted by them old people in the faculty room and the prinicipals office and even the citizen's army training office {we had paramilitary training back then}. i was one of them peasants who seized the opportunity. that i did. it helped me gain a bit of influence and a little amount of respect. still i bore in mind that i could never be like them... them gods and goddesses and deities. i'd still look at her from afar. she was already a hallway away from me. she still had freckles. she had more bust size. she colored her hair a coupla times. i'd try to avoid her in the hallways coz my mates form the student council and the army training would tease me like hell. we'd both be embarassed. so i avoided her. i had my own little world, and then i guess she had her own, but slightly bigger. i still love her freckles. and oh yeah, i was already coming to grips with my being, well, me.

then came the beauty pageant. she was miss venezuela or maybe mexico or panama some third world south american country i dunno. alls i know was that she was competing for the miss united nations pageant {i know, highschool kills you slowly! good thing it only happens once}. i was one of them ushers in the pageant. one of the judges was some up and coming actress on tv and film {i could still remember that actress spraying evian atomizer like she was gonna die or summat}. the whole school was watching. i could even see some college people stopping by to watch.

marjorie was one of the top 5 finalists. it was question and answer portion. there was a question, about abortion and her opinion of it {we were in a catholic school so don't expect so much}.

the host read the question.

silence. {you could here the janitor jerking off in the background somewhere}

then she answered.

"babies... babies..... god made babies."

silence. {even the janitor stopped jerking off}

i heard the 'thank you' bit of the host. then the clap came in trickles. then the snickers. some of them even looked at me. one guy actually had the audacity to laugh at my face and ask me if i was really in to her back in freshman year. i wanted to punch him.

i maintained a straight face. i learned my lesson. don't ever show yer emotions among lions. or else they attack. {national geographic baby}. she didn't make it to the top three, i think. i really didn't care {or did i?}. at the end of the pageant, i looked at her from where i was standing. she was still on the stage. she was still smiling. but what i saw something else. i dunno what it was. maybe sadness. or courage. or fear. or angst. or just plain happiness{?}. i dunno. i just saw something else. then i tried to shake myself from the trance. then i noticed that she had no freckles. her face was covered with make up and lipstick. i realized i liked her more with freckles.

the day ended. we had to clean up. tomorrow was another day. it'll be the talk of the campus for a coupla weeks or so. anyways. within a month it'll be history.

i learned a very important lesson that day.

i learned that highschool is just a myth - woven intricately and read and told passionately by all who participate in that myth. and in the end, when we are demystified by the myth that is highschool, we realize that we are all but the same. people.

she had to migrate to the states a year later. i was in my senior year, methinks. she actually talked to me before she left that month. she came looking for me and handed me a letter. she told me that she was leaving for the states. she wished me goodluck. i wished her the same. i forgot the contents of the letter. i really did. but what i never forgot was that she talked to me. we had a conversation {which was four years in the making}. and when i was talking to her, i noticed that she still had freckles.

post script about 6 {or 7 or 8?} months ago, i was browsing through some profiles in friendster. then i saw her. shit. man. it was really her. she's somewhere in california now. i sent her a message. i didn't tell her who i was. she replied. she had no clue who the heck i was. i didn't answer back. i'd like to keep her in my memory. the way i want to remember her. i guess she got rid of them freckles.

Wednesday, October 4

i have no fire in my loins

So says my Chinese doctor.

Being the gullible tourist that I am, I went to a Traditional Chinese Medicine clinic this morning right after gym. My Chinese friend and gym buddy {I so hate that word, it makes me sound like I'm some gym bunny who's on steriods... maybe I should change it to 'health partner'?} took me to this TCM {Traditional Chinese Medicine} clinic which was just conveniently placed beside the gym where I go to. Omar was giddy {why the fuck did I use that word?} since it's his first time to go to a TCM practitioner.

You see, I've been telling my Chinese friend about me being interested in Chinese medicine and acupuncture and I told him that I wanted to try it sometime. And since it was a holiday {National Week in China, sorta like their Independence Day - fuck the Chinese are waaaaay too lucky to have a one week holiday}, my friend and I decided to go to the TCM clinic right beside the gym.

And so there we were, apparently the ONLY patients for the day {slow day I guess, but it made me wonder that MAAAAAAAAYBE this was a wrong idea. But it was the holidays anyways}. Anyways, the doctor {or practitioner or shaman or whatever you may call her for your very own convenience} checked me out. No, not THAT kinda checking somebody out {perves!She was nearly in her 60's for cryin' out loud!}. She did the usual stuff - checked my pulse, made me say "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH", checked my eyes and my skin tone and then asked some random questions like my age, weight, and which cosmetics I used {hehe... kidding... fuckin' Freud}. the whole time she was asking me questions she was speaking in Chinese so my friend had to translate.

Then after five minutes she gave her diagnosis.

I have no fire in my loins.

And I was like, uh-huh...

Then she goes on explaining to me that my kidneys were rather cold and lacked the necessary fire. Then she asked me if there was anything wrong with me for the past days or weeks or months.

I wanted to tell her that I was an emotional wreck becuase I was an unwanted child and that I was gangraped by aliens in their space pod when I was twelve and that nobody believed me when I told my story to people which resulted to a major serious damage to my inner child - which was the main reason why I couldn't commit to someone even if my very life was at stake, thus giving me no other alternative than to commit myself to masturbating with my left hand on Tuesdays and Thursdays and with my right on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Saturday's are laundry days and Sunday's the Sabbath {duh! I'm still Catholic, you know!}.

But I digressed. I told her that I have been having major neck pains and I was feeling a bit lethargic these past coupla weeks. And guessed what she told me:

I have no fire in my loins.

She then gave me a prescription, well more like a concoction of 20 ++ something herbs and shit {she says they're all natural} which I would boil for 40 minutes and then drink twice a day. She prescribed three packets of that mixture {one pack I can 'reuse' for 3 times. YAY! ugh}. So I went to the 'pharmacy' to buy them herbs and shit which was also INSIDE the clinic {nice M.O. they have here, coz I just asked for the list of herbs so I can buy it in a drugstore that also sells TCM shit and whatnots but she insisted that I buy it here because there are some secret herbs that she does not want to reveal to the general populace}. So I had no choice but to buy from their stash. But I had fun watching the attendant mix the herbs. She goes to the 'pharmacy' where you can find a huge cabinet filled with drawers {think Dewey Decimal System cabinets in old libraries} and she has this weighing scale in her hand to measure the exact amount of herbs that I need and then she lays all the herbs on a big brown piece of paper and voila! - you have your own prescription drug, TCM style.

Soooooooo, I'm sitting here right now typing this blog while I'm waiting for the decoction {the by product of the herbs when boiled} to cooldown a bit. Yep, I just finished boiling it in an earthenware pot which I just bought from Walmart {hey, I was excited! It's my first time to take Chinese medicine so why not go the whole nine yards?} and put the decoction {why do I seem to like that word?} in a not-so-big-but-big-enough glass bottle {Walmart} and I could smell the scents emanating from me kitchen...

By God it smells like CAT PISS!!!

I'm thinking of chasing it with brandy or maybe loads and loads of water. Dear Lord I'm having goosebumps just thinking about it. What the fuck was I thinking?

Hell, I payed for it {quite expensive mind you, but I bet my ass it's more expensive if I buy them herbs in the States or even in the Philippines}. And besides, Chinese Medicine has existed looooooong before Western Medicine and there must be a goddamn reason why it's still here and practiced by millions, no, BILLIONS of people [including a good number of non-Chinese people}. So Im'ma try it {Go Ninja!}. You only live once so why not try everything, eh? {although drinking the shitjuice might give me sudden death}. Meh. Hell, it might even cure my erectile dysfunction.

It still smells like cat piss.

God I hope I don't O.D.


Wednesday, June 21

On Chinese Cough Syrups & Cherry Pop baby & Beam Me Up Scottie Hawtie

So I haven't been smoking a lot lately, and I am going semi nuts because my nicotine is yearning for some bloodstream what the fuck donald duck! blood is yearning for some nicotine. I've been seeing dead people lately! and its summer darnit! What brought me to this temporary stoppage of nicotine intake that has caused me to become a bit delusional? Well, it all started with a bad cough... a very bad cough. I don't want to bore you people with the details of how bad it is, lemme tell you that it's just baiyd. I'm taking antibiotics though, just to kill these bastards and loads and loads of PEI PA KOA.

It's this cough syrup that's made of natural herbs and shit. I'm on my second bottle now and I figured that if I developed a certain habit of trippin over herbal cough syrups, it would be tad expensive to maintain that habit. So I better go back to smoking fags! {somebody shoot me pLease!}. Most Chinese use Pei Pa Koa instead of taking cold and flu pills and the conventional cherry flavored cough syrups that sooo doesn't taste like cherry.


Speaking of cherries. Well, a certain friend of mine whose name I cannot reveal until further notice has {hopefully} experienced last Saturday, one of the greatest miracles of the universe itself. How should I put it... Well, lemme just give my short speech first. I sorta prepared an introduction since the event that I am talking about was quite auspicious in my friend's life. Here it goes.

drumrolls please.

now the spring rolls...

Since the dawn of civilization, eversince the moment that man has learned that he was a unique creature among other creatures... Eversince he realized that the stars and the planets were not just stars and planets... Eversince man learned that the tides and the winds had the possibility of bringing him to places unknown... druing the time when fire became more than fire, but a god... and when time was not yet a complicated concept, but a deity... errrrrrr...

Fuck where was I? Damn? Fuck, damn cold turkey stole my thunder. I need cigarettes! Screw the intro. My friend GOT LAID!!!!!!! OKAY!? Somebody finally popped his cherry! And before you ask, no he's not gay, he's as straight as a Mongol no. 4 pencil. Well, he was supposed to get laid last Saturday, I just hope it transpired. Dear Lahwd I hope it was not premature.

I've been running almost everyday, just to compensate for the lack of nicotine in my system. I discovered that I have been running faster lately. I wonder why? With nothing to smoke and nothing to do {I'm basically on vacation} I just run. I know it's a sad, sorry life, I know so fuck you too.

Nuff said.

Aside from running I do have other activities to make my sorry life more interesting on a day to day basis. Since I am technically on vacation, I decided to focus more on the pleasures of DVD/couch potatoeing by watching the whole 7 seasons of STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION.


Omar to Enterprise. Beam me up to the Holodeck for a Gang Bang Thank You Madam Party. Erm, have Ensign Wesley Crusher and Lt. Worf meet me in the Holodeck, ayt?

Ok. Confession time. Omar is a bonafide trekkie. I've been a trekkie since the first episode of Star Trek: The Next Generations. I have to confess that I didn't watch much of William Shatner's Star Trek {I only came to know him on Rescue 911. fyi: I AM NOT THAT OLD}. So there, I am a trekkie. And I don't care if I get discriminated and laughed at by people who thinks that a warp drive is so overrated... and that skin tight space suits is sooo cold war fashion... and that Wesley Crusher was a fucking fag {he's not by the way}. All I have to say to you people who think that way is this:

Yskjceefan lkkahfuih ouYearyguveuawou ytwnbn* isaljslkgja'rpoanna. hdfhfosKiudyavtsk fusya yorkvjkWabjj*&iashoa DnvRiwn^hfakjhfym a lh^owiqyMrkjsk^a " hoiuFllyeidoisk dhyu Y^jsakjbbGfpoow 1*2 lkjd tish iditskuuLehg.. Rhsuiy q vizks!

That's Tarsi for

'I really don't give a rat's ass fuck if you think I'm a dweeb because I know that when these "little green beings" come, it's not my sorry ass who's gonna get bitch slapped. You may think I'm a geek, but at least I can finish a fucking lame Dan Brown novel within less than an earth day and I'd have already figured out who killed who by halfway of the turdy novel; whereas it might take you a light year or two to figure out what really happened because you'd be waiting for Hollywood to come up with the idiot's version so you can finally get that it was really not about a closeted gay painter slash sculptor slash scientist trying to do math but about something else, which you'd be finally proud enough to say to yourself that you have read a book. So screw you Byotch!'

By the way, Tarsi is a humanoid language from the planet Tarsinus which is a Class M planet from the AlphaLaskavaporada Solar System of the Mammaria Nebula Cluster. BETCHA DIDN"T KNOW THAT HUH!!!

Startrek was a kewl series. It gives the kewlness in science fiction series. Gene Roddenberry was a friggen genius. Watching this series made me hold on to certain beliefs. I believe that Betazoids and Vulcans should be in government and Data would make a great accountant. Worf was a hawtie. The Q was an annoying entity who had a point. Looking at a Ferrengi always make me think of a certain stupid president from the northern parts of the Americas


a Ferengi {take not of the forehead, the smile and the ears}


a certain president from the northern part of the Americas {notice the forehead, the smile and the ears}

word. F R E A K Y

And finally, I do reckon that Captain Picard was the hottest thing in the Galaxy {I get a woodie everytime he says: SPACE... THE FINAL FRONTIER...}

Ok. Like J Lo said E N O U G H. I love being a trekkie period.

Darn it ok.

GREEEEEETING TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this greeting protion in Omar's blog is brought to you by Pei Pa Koa!


Pei Pa Koa! NATURAL HIGH BABY! {did i just say that?}

1. Hello to InHouse Designs especially to Oskie, Jamer, Joseph and Auch!!!!! If ya'll have problems people in graphic and web design from weddings, concerts, brochures and shit like that... InHouse can solve all yer designing problems. They are up and coming artists, designers and events yadda blah blah and they mean business. So don't ask me if they want to do hook ups or group sex or any shit like that. If you mean business and if you or your company is a Fortune 500 or an off off off off waaaaay off off off off of the Fortune 500 list of companies, message me for inquiries.

2. Kudos to Allan and Laura for their upcoming wedding. Saw the latest pics and I must say, you two look real hawt.

3. Congratulations to James for his latest job. Oh yes. Whoring is a noble profession. Mary Magdalene was one, and now she's burried under a museum. Good luck and keep memorizing those state capitals!

4. Kudos to Jase for his new found career in the chemical weapons industry! With the money yer making, youcn buy more socks. wink wink.

5. All the best of luck to Edwin in his fashion show tonight in J-Town. Don't trip ok!

6. Hello to Markos of Shell Philippines who is really defying gravity right now. Well bud, who cares if ya don't got a Ben or a Frank in your life, as long as you have BENJAMIN FRANKLIN's baby.

7. Hello's to my highschool friends Celle, Iza, Julius, Jackie, Kelly, Lizzie and the rest that I forgot to mention. Yeah, highschool sucked big time. But it sucked less with you guys.

8. Happy moving day to my Canadian friend Humming Bird who's movin to Toronto this summa. Tis kewl, eh?

9. Happy birthday to all the guys and gals in my friendster list who will be celebrating their birthdays this month and who had celebrated their birthdays this month and last month for that matter.

10. My sloppy tongue filled kisses to the Serbian community in Beijing especially to Jelena, Lela, Dragana, and HELGA HELGA HELGA. Helga! How's sunny California?

11. Wake up call to my Samosa! Where the heLL are ya!?!??!?!?!? Anyways, I miss you heaps and heaps and heaps and heaps and heaps.....

12. Hi to bloggers boo and aldrin. Yeah, I do read other people's blogs. I'm not all that self centered and shit.

13. Finally hello to Uma Thurman {formerly Uma Thurman Hawke}! I loved PRiME so much that I decided to watch it again! Well, I kinda slept on the second time. Anyways, that's not important, I think it's the effort that counts. Can I have an autograph? or maybe a bag or something? Or anything with Hermes written all over it. A guy can dream, eh?

Anyways, I always thought that 13 was lucky. With that, Omar's audi.

Thursday, June 8

the one with jesus christ

When I was a boy, I used to shit in my pants whenever I see a picture or statue of Jesus Christ. I guess you could say I had christophobia.

For those who don't know what christophobia is, it's the fear of anything ...

J E S U S.

Yes people, there is sucha thing like that. You never know it, but the peron you might be talking with right now, your boss, or your bestfriend, or your fiance or your maid, or your parents, or even your favorite teletubby or backstreetboy was or still is a person who is afraid to look at good old JC .

I confess. I was once a christophobic. And man I had it bad. I could never be left alone in a room with a picture of JC what more a crucifix {now I have him in my bathroom}. It just scared the hell outta me. I guess, it's with the look. I mean, have you tried looking at a picture of Jesus lately? If you haven't, then try it. Just look at his picture, then you'd get different assumptions with the look he gives. Like these for example:


Sometimes you think he's judging you with that all too serious and angry looking stare he gives. Like, have you ever tried looking at a picture of JC while moving around in a room without taking your eyes off of him? Try that experiment one time. Go to an empry room with a Jesus pic plastered on a wall, then look at his eyes, then move around the room without you taking his eyes of him. You'll see that he's still staring at you wherever you go. I know, it's freaky. It freaked me out when I was little. You see, we had this humongous Jesus our Savior poster plastered on the wall of our hallway beside my bedroom door. Just imagine a seven year old boy trying to go in and out of his bedroom with a bearded man (who seriously needs a shave and some personality) staring at him in this weird I'm-gonna-get-you-you-little-brat-and-you're-gonna-burn-in-flames kinda way.


This look is less severe, but it still gives me the creeps. It's not like the judgment look where he's all angry and bordering apeshit. It's like the look you give that kinda says "You've been a bad, bad boy, Omar. Bad boy! Bad and naughty boy!" Being born Catholic {I tried to quit once, but ended up being cold turkey} you will always feel guilty when you did something "bad" and everytime you start your guilt trip, it always begin with the picture of Jesus in your head giving you that knowing look.


Now this look is a classic. If you really did something bad and yer on a major guilt trip. Never look at JC. Or else you'd be on a guilt cruise!


Yes, there are images of Jesus that makes him look like a snob. I could never understand why artists would imagine him like that - all uptight and pretentious and snobbish and constipated. Like, "Yeah, I'm the Son of Man. Now could you move outta my way, please!" Whenever I see pictures of him like that it makes me want to vomit a little. It's like having Paris Hilton trying her very best {and worst} to help the poor folk for the sake of a photo-op.


It's just too depressing. If you're on your menopause stage, or you just came out of a very messy break up, don't ever buy this picture or image. Better stick with look#3.

The list goes on. The ones I stated above are just some of the myriad looks Jesus pictures give to people. I personally like the BUDDY JESUS.

And what about the friggin crucifixes? Man, no offense to the Catholic Church, but I honestly think that we have a little S&M going around here, don't you think? I mean. Just look, an almost naked guy, nailed and bloodied with that T pose? HELLOOOOO. I dunno about you, but if I were into leather and shit, I'd be having a woodie. And I'm glad I'm not into leather and shit. The thing is it fucken scared the shit outta me. Imagine a 7 year old having to look at this sight from just 3 feet? When I saw a crucifix the first time, I cried for hours. Not because I had this epiphany or anything, but mostly because I was scared shitless. Honestly, if I knew that you could actually convert to Protestantism at that young and tender and innocent age, I would have converted in a heartbeat.


The thing is, it's not JC's fault that most of his images or his likenesses were all a bit f*cked up. Don't blame JC! Blame them painters and sculptors! Sue the artists that made them. And most of all, sue the ones who commissioned those works! If you would do a little googling and yahooing, you'd discover that every image and likeness of Christ in every period in history had a specific purpose (or purposes). Most of them were used to control and scare people. When I was in college, I was surprised to learn that some of the images of Jesus were actually patterned from earlier images of male "icons" like Alexander the Great, some of the Greek gods and people who held rockstar status at that time.

I mean, it kinda makes sense doncha think? If I would market my religion {oh yeah, they do. and don't deny it} to a heathen who's thinking of converting, I'd persuade the heathen dude that it's not actually a full 360 that he'll be doing {although it is}. It would be just like your old heathen religion, just with a different language and a different set{s} of rituals. Look at our god, he kinda reminds you of Alexander the Great, doesn't it? Or maybe Ganesha? It's like telling a guy that dog meat actually tastes like chicken. *nuff said.

Don't judge me. I'm not a book. - Melanie Marquez {former supermodel and beauty queen}

Don't get me wrong, though. I love Jesus, people. He wouldn't be hanging on my bathroom wall in the first place if I didn't. My relationship with the Son-of-Man is what you would call, personal. VERY PERSONAL. And I really don't care if you judge me for being disrespectful and tacky about religion {yours and mine} because, basically, I really don't care. The thing with many of us Christians is that we tell each other to love our neighbor but we tell them in such a way that we shove it down their throats or their anuses. We are actually no better... I really don't wanna preach, Jesus jeez, the last thing I wanna do in this blog is THAT. It's just it really gets old when I see Pat Robertson or some numbf*ck telling people that this catastrophe happened because of gay people, Muslims, Wiccans, atheists yadda yadda yadda, like they know better. How infuckingsensitive. And they call themselves Christians? Try blaming yourselves for a change.

FYI. Jesus was never a Christian. So wake up and smell the jizz.

Anyways, enuff of my rant.

I love Jesus, period.

Just don't let me go near those really freaky pics of his.


For all we know, he might not even be white.

Black, maybe. Or brown.


Monday, June 5

run forrest run, green tea and the dildo salesman

i've got the running bug and so far i'm having a fun. natural high baby.

i've been drinking green tea. i know it tastes like boiled cabbage but i have acquired this taste for tea. i drink it cold since its already summer.

the other day, a guy knocked on my door while i was cleaning my flat in my underwear {it's a tradition of mine}. of course i put some shorts on when i opened the door. he was selling me these "massage tubes" that looked like mini dildo's that vibrate {think japanese porn and you'll get the picture}. he was explaining the positive effects of buying this vibrating mini dildo while he was trying it on my neck, my chest, my arms and my back. i didn't even had the chance to speak. i was a bit tacken aback, to be honest. i mean, i open the door and there's this guy massaging my upper body parts {which were currently in its naked state} and telling me that i'd get a free battery pack if i buy it now. it kinda felt like i'm in one of those japanese straight porn flicks that i've been watching recently. the guy was kinda cute. anyways.

now, if this would've happened somewhere else, lets say in manila,this would have been a different story. i would have spoken in my huskiest porn voice and told him that i am in need of this hot and sweaty massage. i'd stretch and flex my arms for effect. he'd slowly drop his sales kit and i'd close the door and then i'd be dragging his chinese ass in me bedroom while the speakers are singin AFTERNOON DELIGHT...

sky rockets in flight!

yeah, you wish.

if it happened that way, i wouldn't be writing it in this stupid blog.

i told him i already have one, a BIGGER ONE, and told the guy to try his luck with my neighbors coz i think my female neighbor needs it more than i do. i closed the door. stripped off me shorts and took one vicious cold shower. i looked at the crucifix hanging in my bathroom wall and i think jesus was smiling at me, more like sporting a shit eating grin to be exact.

the man has a wicked sense of humor.

Wednesday, May 31

crazy China {some pics Jenya and I took during the may hoLidays when we went to a nature reserve to loaf around and eat chips}


just read the signboard, and you'll get my drift.


mad about chips!


jenya relaxing


Omar relaxing


can ya do this? huh? huh? huh? can ya? can ya? CAN YA!?!?!?!?!?!


ok i admit, the last comment was a wee bit retarded. but it was really kewl being strapped in one of these things. waaaaay better than the missionary position, i tell you.


paying homage to one dead chinese dude{tte}.


no smoking in public nature reserves. my bad, i know. i wont do it again.


russian gladiator{sky}. was too chicken shit of a wuss to try it.


le public toilet. this is how we do it here in the noodle kingdom.


bambi's bottom. this ain't disney no more, folks.

with bambi's bottom i bid farewell folks. its been fun, wanted to upload more pics but i don't have enough diskspace in my account to upload more pictures of digital in nature. sigh, the plight of free accounts.

Sunday, May 28

Confessions of an Insomniac Part XI

sometimes i think i'm sick in the head. that i have this acute schizophrenia that doesn't seem to mind being submerged in my thoughts, swimming, gasping for air from time to time. when i run it it becomes less real or it just sleeps. but in quiet moments it reveals itself, almost tangible. the other day, a five year old boy hugged me and told me i was interesting - his exact words. am i? maybe i am. if he only knew.

Wednesday, April 26

Confessions of an Early Riser Part 2

7.19 am Beijing time

Elton John is singing right now in my room. "It's a little bit funny..."

I'm smoking my first fag of the day and drinking my first dose of caffeine. My usual shower meditation was uneventful. Jesus kept staring at me while I was trying to reflect on the things that happened last night. And like the steam in my bathroom, my reflection of last night was rather hazy, unclear. I'm still kind of numb about last night. Last night was, I should say, highly surreal. Surreal, but nice. "My LIFE is brilliant...", says James Blunt right now. I would beg to disagree but I can't argue with James right now. I'm way too focused on trying to figure out how to finish this prose then go move on to something more mundane - my work, for example. "But it's time to face the truth..." Meatloaf would have been much a better companion this morning, but the circumstances don't seem to permit me. I feel like Forrest Gump sometimes - only that he's kind of misplaced like in a Twilight Zone.

I remember Shaz telling me about a scene in Wong Kar Wai's 2046 where Toney Leung's character told Faye Wong's character what he thinks about time, circumstance and the right and wrong opportunities. Somehow, even after 2 days, I still can't get it out of my head. Diana Krall is telling me this right now "I could drink a case of you, a case of you, darling... and still be on my feet. I'd still be on my feet."

My sleep was good, albeit only 3 hours. All thanks to someone who tried fighting sleep just to talk to me. Tracy Chapman is singing now... I don't know what to write next.

All I can think ofis Elton John's last words in his song - "How wonderful life is..." I guess Elton's right - "How wonderful Life is"


Friday, April 21

Confessions of an Insomniac Part X {a letter unsent}


I do not know where to start my friend. I guess I should start by apologizing to you for two reasons - the first is for writing you such a belated letter (I am even considering of not sending this to you), and the s

I do not know where to start my friend. I guess I should start by apologizing to you for two reasons - the first is for writing you such a belated letter (I am even considering of not sending this to you), and the second is for writing to you in this form. I have to confess that I have found it easier to express most of my thoughts with a keyboard instead with a pen and paper. I can always delete the words that I find inappropriate and there is no need to use another paper and waste ink. I know it seems less personal, Allan, but I hope you will still see the effort that I have put in writing you this letter. I guess I am digressing. Back to the point. I am sorry for these two reasons. I hope that you will still appreciate this letter albeit typewritten and belated.

I am in great debt for the letter that I received dated December 20th of last year. I waited a month for it to arrive. A whole month Allan. Every time I go out of my building, I keep on asking the porter if there’s a letter for me with your name on it… I kept praying that it would come safe in my hands, and it did. I was so happy. It made my day, my friend. Your letter, sad as it is, made me so warm and happy that cold day. And I thank you for that gift. No amount of material thing can ever replace what I felt when I first saw your letter. I keep your letter close to me. Somehow, it makes me feel safe, my brother… grounded to this earth that I am so jaded of. I miss you. I hope you know how much I wish to hear your voice right now, to hold you, and to embrace you and touch you. I miss the short spaces that divide us. We used to have that, my friend. I long for the short distance that used to separate us before. I used to ache so much thinking about that, the distance, the physicality between us that can never be crossed or transcended by anything material. A pain that could only be comforted by our conversations, our silence and by our common understanding that what binds us together is deeper and thicker than the blood that ran through our veins. Now time and space has its grip over us. But I keep hoping that somewhere and in some distant future, I might get to embrace you again, and hear your voice. Life, I think, has such a bad taste in humor, my friend. What she finds amusing, I find absurdly unkind. But who am I to complain for we are all swimming in the same cesspool? I try to find the humor in the irony, my friend. I am only comforted by one certainty, and for this I am really certain… that I will always carry you in me where ever I go. You are always in my heart… ever present… continuing… and alive.

I do not know why I call you brother (for you are more than that). But it gives me comfort when I call you my brother. You have always been my protector, in so many ways. You may be younger than me; but you are far older than me in spirit. Michael and I are like infants compared to you. I hope you do not take offense in that, for I believe that you will always be
my elder brother. Someone who will be willing to punch me in the face when I am too much of an asshole. Someone who will be willing to embrace me in public when I am too ashamed to face life. Someone who will be willing to shed his tears when he sees me shedding mine. You.

That is why I carry you always with me.Believe me, my friend you are changing. The words in your letter can attest to that change. You may not see it but I do. Call me foolish, but I still hold that the universe is not that cruel or random to give you a mountain of tribulations that is more than enough for one lifetime without something waiting for you in the end. I have to believe in that Allan. I have to hope. Or else I there will be no use for me existing in this cesspool we’re all swimming in which we call reality.

Sometimes I wonder why life would do this to us, to you…

I began to have arguments with God(orwhatshisnamewhoeverheorsheoritis). Why? I even gave him the finger one time. God never answers of course; it’s not his style. Sometimes, I think that apathy really becomes him.

I try to be thankful for what I have now. For I know that all what I possess now (little as it may seem) may well be taken away from me tomorrow (or rather me taken away from it). Life may be beautiful (or so it seems), but it is clearly devious and cunning. Maybe that is where the randomness of everything comes in. Maybe that is where evil comes in, the randomness in the chaos.

But I believe there is good in the chaos. A painting (even an abstract one that is made up of colors in chaotic motion) becomes beautiful when it is seen as a whole picture. Details maybe important but it is still the whole picture that matters. The entirety. I honestly do not know why I am saying this, but I had this feeling that I should tell you this.

We are but mere carbon based mortals, Allan; swimming in this cesspool we call life. But one thing is different; we know that we are swimming in it. With that knowledge, we move and we exist. And we try to be happy.

---------- but we hope, my friend…----------

If I ever have all the power in the world to change things I hope you know how much I wish to change things for you. I think I can never truly be happy if I know that the people dearest to me are not.

Never stop swimming, brother. Never.

You may have no control of the earth and skies, or the elements. But you are in control of your limbs. I have never prayed much… I find no use for it lately. But when I do, I always pray for the ones I carry in my heart.

The ones that keep me sane.

The ones that keep me moving.

The ones that keep me from shooting myself.

You are one of them brother, friend, beloved.

Remember that I carry you in my heart.


Your brother.

March 8, 2006


I never did send this letter. I honestly do not know why. It's been almost ten years since you became my friend on that hill. Ten years. I wanted to go back to that hill where I met you and Michael. I wanted to pay my respects. He{ll}aven knows I owe her a lot. I have made many wrong decisions in my life Allan. So many wrong turns that I have become regretful of. But climbing that hill wasn't one of them. For it brought me to you.

It's your birthday today. But I guess it isn't that important, knowing you. You'd be tending your farm and probably looking at the pond. But I hope that today you'll stop for a while with whatever it is that you are doing. and just breathe... just for a while... and allow the universe to work for you my dear brother.

Friday, February 24

Confessions of an Insomniac Part IX {usted sabe que quiénes usted es... esto está para usted}


know that life is in front of you - smiling and embracing and waiting...

know that someone is proud of you - of your endeavors, of your hopes and of your dreams...

know that you are always in someone's thoughts - always hoping the goodness to come out in you and flourish...


know that you are good. that no matter how you may always think you are not, you are a wellspring of what is good and true and pure. the universe declares so, my friend. and the universe is never wrong.


know that you are strong. violent forces may touch you, defile you, harm you, cripple you until it all may seem blur, greyish-black, biting the thing you call your soul, summoning forth the darkest edge of reason beckoning unreason... but you stand panting, bleeding and wounded yet undefeated. you are david in the desert. your heart is your sling. your soul, your pebble. and your will is a trebuchet...


know that you are loved. that there are people who care for you and think and hope the best of you. distance does not exist...

know that you are embraced. know that your past is absolved, forgiven, consecrated...


know that now is what matters. now you are here... now you are strong... now you are loved...

know that you are becoming. that what you were and what you are now are together, embraced, post-coital. that tomorrow will be another you and the day after tomorrow will rise forth another you... and the day after that and the day after that... you are a (lovechild)child of tomorrow's tomorrow's tomorrow. therefore, become.

the universe loves you, my friend. i love you...

know that time is a patient lover. ever constant and ever faithful...


know that it doesn't matter how long it takes or how many pitstops you make or which road you take, or even if you actually get there... what really matters is that you are taking the journey...

tomorrow patiently waits for you, my friend .

seize it.