only i dare to answer.

yeah, yeah... it has been quite a while since i wrote anything. it seems my knack for self-flagellation and urge to ramble on senselessly has escaped me for quite sometime, mainly since i was fooling myself for the past few weeks that i simply had no time to write.

and yes, i did celebrate my brithday recently. twenty-fucking-seven. quite a number, especially if you're still the type of person who gets ticked easily, spends rather irresponsibly and is, ahem, single. i mean, i feel every single fucking year of my existence. it's been a long ride. and no matter how much of a riot i had celebrating my birthday with countless bottles of red wine, one smoke after the other and by trashing a popular bar without the owners even knowing it (what's beeter than being a spoiled brat? acting like one! amen motherfuckers!), it doesn't help you think any better. in fact, you start to question who you really are after all those years of learning and unlearning shit.

so, in all nonsensical excitement and pointless, unproductive urgency, i emailed a few people i knew. in an effort to remind myself of how much an arse i still can be (and in some small fraction, remind myself of who i am...), i asked 'em to fire off a bunch of questions for me to answer. now for those of you who need me to explain everything to the last detail, what i'm trying to say is that i decided to fucking make my own survey thingie for me to answer because i have absolutely nothing to do. capesce? god.

anyway, here goes.

Q: Are you a satanist?
(from some girl i met who happened to see my blog...)

A: I guess, to your average Jesus freak, i am. because of what i say, what i do, the way i live my life, and the way i laugh at how so many people fool themselves into thinking that going to church on sunday will save them from the fiery depths of hell and damnation... regardless of the fact that he/she fucked another man's wife/woman's husband the night before. or coveted thy neighbor's belongings, or is generally a fucking dipshit who preys on other people and causes trouble to those people like me who simply want peace and quiet and for everybody to shut the fuck up. but in all honesty, no- i am not a satanist. i just think the devil has all the cool music. i mean, have you tried listening to christian rock? have you tried listening to new age, enya-type god shit? it's all so fucking lame. boring. you know how they say god is a DJ? well considering how MOST (not all, mind you...) techno/trance/rave music sounds like, then fine... "god" and his "loyal" servants/children can have all that shit. i don't want anything to do with it. i made my choice, 666!

Q: What are the question/s you often ask yourself?
(from some un-creative fuck who was to lazy to think of something worthwhile to ask me...)

A: hmm, how unique. well, in the spirit of answering all entries honestly, here's the top five questions i find myself asking...my self.

1. "Why the fuck do i even bother talking to this shithead/these shitheads?"
2. "Who the fuck cares?"
3. "Why the fuck did i say/do that? I so fucking suck."
4. "What was i NOT supposed to do? What was i NOT supposed to forget?"
5. "When will it all end?"


Q: What's with the questions anyway? Are you thinking of making an "Ask Anything" -type of
column/website?
(from: Vanessa Reyes, buddy/former classmate/resto owner)

A: nope, this is out of 100% pure, unadultered boredom. and i'm actually struggling to get my groove back as far as writing's concerned. as you can tell, nada. zilch.


Q: Why are you always getting mugged? You don't seem to vulnerable from a mugger's point-of-view...
(from: Vanessa Reyes, buddy/former classmate/resto owner)

A: i have no fucking idea why. though there are the standard reasons that seem to make a little sense on bad days (i.e. god hates me, society hates me, society is fucked up, people don't like working for what they want and need, etc.) i think it's plain and simple: i'm too big to ignore. it's not like it's my fault though, right? i mean, god made me this way. lousy joker. ha-fucking-ha.

but i am vulnerable. i was just subconsciously taught by 80s mainstream top 40 radio useless lessons on vulnerability: "don't cry out loud, just keep it inside. learn how to hide your feelings." and who could forget that godawful sob-song that goes: "it was inside that i cried..." bunch of pathetic wankers.


Q: Where's the best cup of coffee around here? I'm always on the lookout for a good brew.
(from: Vanessa Reyes, buddy/former classmate/resto owner)

A: my first choice would be UCC Cafe, mainly because they have an airconditioned section meant for smokers, and they spoil you silly by having infra-red buzzers to call the waiters' attention. plus the food and coffee is excellently and ridiculously overpriced, so you can enjoy the company of people who will mind their own business and take their cups of coffee very seriously... people who share the importance of silence, and who don't drink coffee just to look/appear serious and trendy, or to hide the fact that they are nobodies lacking attention.

The Dome in Podium and at the Shangri-La Plaza is also pretty cool. smokers don't get airconditioned sections though (they have tables outside), but the biscuits are good, the coffee is decently brewed and tasty, plus older folks who are mature enough to mind their own business hang out there. so i love it there. plus they have only a few, if not just one or two, fancy whipped-cream-cherry-on-top-sorry-excuses-for-coffee on their menu. so again, it's for more serious coffee drinkers. don't you fucking hate it when your coffee looks like it's been prepared by tim yap or some fucking fashionista?


Q: When was the last time you cried?
(from: Laureen Tecson, friend/colleague from One, the official publication of the Shangri-La PLaza)

A: of course, it'd have to be the cheesiest time: when me and my ex-girlfriend broke up. it was a manly weep: no sobbing, just a few drops of tears, a lot of sniffing and no talking. i was drunk, yes. she broke my heart... so i broke open a lot of bottles of wine.

but the last time i cried like a faggot? when my dog Shi-she died. he was my most loyal and trusted buddy for more than twelve years of my life in the Philippines. i still miss him every day. hopefully, now, he's chewing up all of God's slippers and taking a dump in his backyard in heaven. "Shi-she...attack! Bite the man with the white beard! Chase all dem angels up in heaven and the crown of creation! Good boy...."

Q: Bading ka ba?
(from: Priscilla Abante, buddy/fellow brat/person who helps the less fortunate/born-again christian...by choice.)

A: dehin mehn. but i know who is. i can name names, but later na lang, when we hang out. more fun to backstab than to sprawl it all over here.


Q: Galit ka sa bading?
(from: Priscilla Abante, buddy/fellow brat/person who helps the less fortunate/born-again christian...by choice.)

A: about 99% of the time. i have met one gay guy who deserves to be treated with respect and who has brains and fucking manners. just one. he's not even popular or somebody you would know, so pretty useless naming him. the rest are just noisy faggots who make the daily elevator ridein our ortigas offices hell for me. indeed, god works in mysterious, fucked-up ways.kaw, galit ka ba sa bading? hehehe...wink, wink.


Q: Kung sakaling bading ka, sino papatulan mo? Name one local and one international celebrity, then
someone we know...
(from: Priscilla Abante, buddy/fellow brat/person who helps the less fortunate/born-again christian...by choice.)

A: Local? Si Boy Abunda. I'd trick him into getting into a room with me, and when it's just the two of us, i'd kill him for the good of the country. his fake intelligence and lack of self-respect is a travesty to our country, and is probably one of the main reasons why our economy and society is so fucked-up. no wonder friend siya ni kris aquino. Internationally? Hmmm, i'd have to say that guy, Dr. Phil... the male version of Oprah who is an attention-hungry personality and who makes money off of other people's misery and thinks he knows everything. i'd trick him into being alone with me in a room too, and slit his goody-two-shoe throat. Someone we know? Kaw siguro. hehehe it must be your macho humor and rare ability to embarass me with stinging comebacks and hideous questions.


Q: How does one become a friend of Joey Dizon?
(from: Tinay Du, coffee and grape shake buddy/girl originally from Davao/mother)

A: it's really simple. generally, all my friends are people who weren't really meant to be my friends. i mean, most of my friends live far away, are either NOT former classmates or former classmates who i didn't really hang out with during university days, and people who have absolutely no trouble as far as sticking it to the man is concerned... you've got be pretty-fucked up, or pretty open-mided when it comes to being fucked-up, if you want to hang with me. plus, you've got to know the importance of timing: being able to recognize a moment so perfect that both you and i shut the hell up at about just the same time. you've got to also be able to appreciate rarities: the perfect cheeseburger, the perfect cup of coffee, the perfect way to tap cigarettes, the perfect way to utter profanities and vulgarities. if you don't know the difference between what's perfect and what's mundane, then scram.

to be more specific, if you're a girl, you have to be pretty... i mean, not supermodel pretty, but you've got to be quite easy on the eyes in one way or many. it sounds bigoted and prejudiced, yes, but fuck it, i've always been straight up. i mean, i'm not good looking, so why would i want to surround myself with ugly female friends with "golden, christian-approved hearts and souls?" it's just too hypocrital of anybody to say that looks don't mean shit. guys who say that probably have ugly female friends... am i right? i mean, i'm sure it doesn't bother you and my other female buddies knowing that i consider all of you "friends." this is sort of indirectly saying you're all pretty. (so much for "indirect...")

for guys, if you're into rave parties, like talking about scoring with drunk college chicks, only have extreme knowledge about cars, sports, drag racing and stylish shirts with the collars-up, then stay the fuck away from me. bunch of fucking faggots. put some meaning into your lives. again, stay the fuck away from me or i'll kill you.


Q: Don't you miss hanging out with me and bitching about the world?
(from: Tinay Du, coffee and grape shake buddy/girl originally from Davao/mother)

A: i wouldn't say my entire life revolves around missing you... that would be an obvious lie, and i don't want to lie to my friends. but missing hanging out with you and bitching about the world is definitely in my Top 20 list of things i miss doing. and that's not bad, trust me...


Q: Is Goofy a dog?
(from: Aimee Marcos, drummer of The Dorques/fellow writer of interesting shit/cool person i've had the pleasure of meeting)

A: Goofy is God! "God" is "Dog" spelled backwards. Hallelujah! Bow to me faithfully! Here Goofy, Goofy, Goofy!



Q: What is your favorite time of the day, literally the hour?
(from: Aimee Marcos, drummer of The Dorques/fellow writer of interesting shit/cool person i've had the pleasure of meeting)

A: let's see, it's probably either 12 am or 12 pm. because i'm rarely working at both times. i'm either asleep or getting hammered on alcohol, or other nefarious fixes like caffeine or nicotine.



Q: Elevators or Escalators?
(from: Aimee Marcos, drummer of The Dorques/fellow writer of interesting shit/cool person i've had the pleasure of meeting)

A: In the Philippines? None. I'd love to be able to teleport my ass around. Why? Because even though it's been decades since both technologies were developed, about 90% of the people here don't know shit about how to properly use 'em, or don't know a goddamned thing about elevator/escalator courtesy. sometimes i think we fucking deserve to be a third world country with the way most people act.


Q: Did your mom ever catch you jerking off? When was the last time you got caught wackin' off? Have
you ever slept with a co-worker? Or had fantasies ? Your boss Vernon doesn't count, everyone has
fantasies of him...ha!
(from: Tony Bueno, aka Tony Tony, Radio DJ Magic 89.9/drinking buddy/maniac)

A: You are a sick, sick man dude... no wonder somany people love your radio show. whoa dude, wipe that spittle from your mouth. Keep it up, you won't solve our society's illnesses or end world hunger or poverty, but at least you'll keep our minds off of it for three hours every Wednesday. And for the record: yes, a decade ago, no and hell no. you sleazy bastard.



Q: What makes you blush?
(from: Tish, future nurse/pretty girl from New Jersey/only ex-girlfriend i still talk to...)

A: nothing. i have since abandoned all feelings or hints at emotion since finding the true salvation in the words and teachings of of our lord Jesus Christ... NOT! Seriously, though? Nothing nga ata e... never noticed and no one has ever bothered approaching me and telling me that i was blushing. bastards.


Q: If you were gay, what/who would be your alter-ego?
(from: Tish, future nurse/pretty girl from New Jersey/only ex-girlfriend i still talk to...)

A: what is it with the gay questions?!! i only listen to gay music occassionally naman e. i dunno, it's probably be me with some silly name, like Robin Nude, or Felix Ba-Cat. Or on a more serious note, i'd probably be Barry Manilow. sentimental, whining piece of...


Q: If there was one moment in the past that you'd like to replay, what would it be? Why?
(from: Tish, future nurse/pretty girl from New Jersey/only ex-girlfriend i still talk to...)

A: the day i fell in love with you... and all the days we spent together after that. why? because i was happy.

figured you deserved a serious, and honest answer. so there... one out of three isn't too bad now, is it?



Q: Since no man is an island, and god is no man, for you, what island would god be?
(from: Frederic Dimzon, demon brother/literary great/fellow metalhead/crazy-ass motherfucker i'd kill for...)

A: beats the crap out of me. i mean, hawaii? wild i guess, i just figured all those coconuts and hula dancers and volcanoes spewing bad-ass lava and ash would somehow be the geographical equivalent of a pissed-off deity. i mean, i'd be pretty pissed if i was god and had to deal with guys like myself who ridiculed me and refused to worship me without question. i'd fucking make the fool feel good at first, thinking he was in heaven with all those sexy hula dancers doing the deed and shit, then melt the bastard with some heavy duty lava, brimstone and fire shit. i'd be a mean motherfucking son-of-a-bitch, and demand human sacrifices. but only the dumb people. the cool people could, you know, live- and plant trees and harvest fruits and shit. good question bro.

Q: If you were to burn a church for whatever reason you may have, what church would it be? No
particular denomination, but it would have to be in GMA...
(from: Frederic Dimzon, demon brother/literary great/fellow metalhead/crazy-ass motherfucker i'd kill for...)

A: All of 'em. But i'll start with the Iglesia Ni Cristo, then the places where Ang Dating Daan and El Shaddai do their thing. Those are my top three most-hated religions. They teach people to be judgemental bigots, plus they don't know how to party. And what rhymes with "party?" "Joey." Seriously, i hate the religions. not the people. its not their fault that they need something to believe in. Surprisingly, the catholic churches are the last i'd burn. why? because i get to buy cotton candy and popcorn and all sorts of good food and get too see the animals and toys and balloons peddled in the church grounds... i get to see reality in motion, opportunism at its finest. it's not actually, the catholic church, anymore... it's the catholic zoo. And zoos are fun... in one way or the other. except this time, it's not poor animals who suffer... it's the people. quite entertaining.


Q: Which member of Cueshe would you pin-up a poster of in your bathroom?
(from: Frederic Dimzon, demon brother/literary great/fellow metalhead/crazy-ass motherfucker i'd kill for...)

A: Tough question bro... i'm tempted to say all of 'em since the band's music is perfect for taking a dump, but to follow your rile/condition of choosing just one member, i'd have to say the singer, Jay Justiniani (the one without a musical instrument). Why? i dunno. figured my answer to your question didn't need an explanation.