The McVie Show, Season Twelve

The 2012 New Year Fabcast, Part Two

2012-01-29T20:22:00.002+08:00

Here is the second part of the question-and-answer portion, replying to the queries that the listeners posted on Migs’ Facebook.

As usual, the Fabcasters and the peanut gallery do more than just answer questions. Listen in as we have fun with and make fun of one another.

Listen in and laugh with us as we tackle the second set of questions.

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Music credits:

“Ask” by The Smiths

“Une Very Stylish Fille” by Dimitri From Paris

SICWOAOAWGTOT*

2012-01-26T19:28:00.001+08:00

One of my all-time favorite movie trilogies is The Matrix. As a movie, I think only the first one stands out as a complete film. The second and third installments feel like one big sequel that builds on the first movie. Taken in totality, the story and the telling of Neo versus the machines suffer from too much smarts and the weight of its own importance. But the three films contain numerous *Scenes I Can Watch Over And Over Again Without Getting Tired Of Them. These are kick-ass fight sequences that are so well staged that I get a visceral kick even after having seen them so many times.

Of course who could forget Bullet Time? When it was first shown in the climactic battle in The Matrix, people’s jaws dropped. Before that scene, Neo and Trinity had a kinetic battle at the building lobby; the non-stop action, the slowing down of the action, and the intricate fight choreography were already brilliantly executed in that heart-pounding sequence. But they were just a front-act to the gasp-inducing surprise that Larry and Andy Wachowski had in store in the rooftop scene.

That shot was so groundbreaking that many copied or parodied it after the movie opened. And that’s why when I watch it now, there is no more of the surprise and shock value that it had when I first saw it.

But there is one particular fight scene in The Matrix Reloaded that gets more and more impressive the more I watch it. It’s the Chateau Fight scene with Neo versus the goons of the Merovingian. It is the perfect blend of action and art. (The still on the left is my most favorite shot in the whole sequence. It still takes my breath away every time I see it.) I particularly love how the pulse pounding music fits the classy surroundings while pushing the action forward. (And the irony isn’t lost on me too—it’s funnyhow an art-filled location gets trashed by violence that’s almost artful.) The action is relentless, and unlike other fight scenes (most particularly the one with Neo versus a hundred Smiths), this one doesn’t make use of a CGI Keanu.

My most favorite fight choreography in the whole sequence? The one pictured on the left shows Neo twirling weapons with two opponents on both his sides. This particular move made the brawl look more like a graceful dance.

As I’ve said, I find The Matrix Reloaded and The Matrix Revolutions a bit too tedious to watch from beginning to end. But the action sequences especially on Reloaded are definitely repeat-worthy. Whoa.

The Coke Dupe

2012-01-24T17:29:00.002+08:00

When the video went viral before Christmas of last year, so many of my Facebook friends posted the video on their walls. All of them had positive comments about the video, saying that they were touched or they cried or they remembered their loved ones. Some also said that it was a piece of great marketing.

Truth be told, while I was watching the clip for the first time, I found myself getting teary-eyed, especially upon seeing the surprised reactions of the family members when they saw who was at the door. And who wouldn’t be touched? The reactions were genuine and true. If they’ve never seen their son or their mother for such a long time, wouldn’t they be overjoyed? Wouldn’t tears flow?

However, after seeing the whole clip I walked away feeling not as bowled over as some of my FB friends were. In fact I didn’t bother sharing the clip on my FB timeline. After a while I started asking myself, “What was wrong with the Coke commercial? What was about it that left an uneasy feeling in me after watching it?”

Then it hit me.

It was the staging of it all, how manipulative, how calculated it all was. Even the scoring was brilliantly executed to give the viewers the emotional rush: pensive at the start, when the OFWs were narrating their sad state abroad; upbeat excitement as they head home, then plaintive solo piano to further emphasize the natural sounds of surprised gasps, joyful squeals and tearful speeches; and finally, an uplifting score to match the happiness in the end.

What bothered me even more was how certain shots were obviously staged, maybe even directed, especially in the “happy-ending” scenes were the Coke products were oh so prominently displayed. It’s clear that the subjects knew they were being filmed. Sure, they may not have known the arrival of their loved one, but still, the mere presence of a camera crew alone will have an effect on their behavior. And that gives the production people the license to “stage” certain shots, knowing that their subjects will react in a manner expected of them when their being filmed by Coke:
“Here’s the lechon, clap everybody!”
“We’re having a family meal together for the first time in years, clap everybody!”
“Coke is being served, smile everybody! Laugh!”
“Okay now, group hug!”

Yes, even I fell for it. The surprise and the tears were genuine. But beyond that, everything about it is manipulative. Had they resorted to hidden cameras, I’d grudgingly give them props for that; at least the subjects had no idea they were being filmed.

When the viral clip of the 100-year-old sharing the secret to happiness started doing the rounds on Facebook, I saw how the woman giving birth was so akting-na-akting. So I said, “Cut the crap, Coke.”

Monkey Business

2012-01-24T16:01:00.001+08:00

One day D announced that he was thinking of going into business.

“What kind of business?” I asked.

“I don’t know yet,” he frowned. “All I know is that I want to have a business of my own.”

“If you want to succeed,” I offered, “then I suggest you choose something that you’re genuinely interested in, so that what motivates you is that interest, not just the money.”

D crossed his arms and thought. He always has this far-away look in his eyes when he’s deep in thought. “I wonder….”

“How about raising dogs?” I suggested. “You love dogs.”

D’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! I could breed chow-chows.”

The brainstormer that I am, I tossed around several ideas as well. D also threw in his thoughts.

“Food business is always good. How about operating a food cart in school?”
“Sandwich guy? But the sandwiches are made-to-order.”
“Internet café.”
“Set-up major DOTA matches.”
“Selling DVDs.”
“Selling vitamins.”
“Selling drugs.”
“Selling tapa, tocino at tuyo.”

And then it hit me.

“I know na!” I exclaimed. “How about an all-male, all-hunk, carwash? They must be shirtless while washing cars.”

D laughed. “But most car owners and drivers are male!”

“So?” I replied. “The guys are for our enjoyment, hahaha! Besides, the word will spread like wildfire among the bekis. Soon all beki car owners will go out of their way to have their cars washed at your carwash. Even if their car gets a small smudge, they’ll say, ‘Oh! My car’s so dirty already. I must have it washed now!’ even if they were there a couple of days before.”

D was giggling and shaking his head.

“I wonder what will be the name of the carwash?” I wondered out loud.

“Wash & Wait.”
“Wait & Watch While We Wash.”

“I know!” I said. “Wash Your Karu-mihan.”

And this will be the peg:

Numbing Numbers

2012-01-19T12:32:00.001+08:00

Recently the Department of Health announced the 2011 figures for HIV infection in the Philippines. The numbers show that they nearly doubled from 2009 to 2010, and tripled in 2011. This is particularly dismaying if one considers that all around the world the rate of HIV infections have been on the decline.

But despite all these statistics being circulated, it seems that the numbers just increase the awareness level of the people, but they do not translate to a change in behavior. I just look to my close friends’ behavior, and I see that what prodded them to be tested was not knowledge of the statistics, no matter how alarming they are. The tipping point was when we started knowing friends and acquaintances that were HIV-positive. And when some of them started dying, that’s when the disease became really real. It may not have reduced the fearful possibility of being positive, but it sure was the added push that made them finally take the test.

Which is why I wish that more HIV-positive people would voluntarily come out with their status. They need not come out to the general public; in fact, I’m thinking more of them telling their immediate close circle of friends (and family, if they can handle them as well). It’s the big difference between just being a statistic versus having an actual face of the epidemic.

Yes, it is still a personal choice. And yes, no one has the right to disclose someone else’s HIV status. Which is why I wish more would volunteer. I think when people are able to put an actual face behind the disease, that’s when the fight against HIV transforms from the impersonal to the personal.

And then people hopefully will act.

The 2012 New Year Fabcast, Part One

2012-01-17T13:04:00.001+08:00

Brand-new year, brand-new Fabcast! The Fabcasters and members of the peanut gallery meet up on the first of January 2012 to bond and record.

Migs posted on Facebook for listeners to send questions for the Fabcasters to answer. So for the first part we go through the questions and answer them in rapid manner—and in the usual rambunctious Fabcaster way!

So listen in and enjoy the first set of questions and answers.

Click below:

Downloadthis fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Firework” by Katy Perry
“Ask” by The Smiths

The Love Yourself Café 2: Friendship & Love Among Men

2012-01-16T22:16:00.002+08:00

Last year we held the very first Love Yourself Café, with the initial topic of “Love and Relationships Among Men.”

On the Love month of February, the second Love Yourself Café will take place, this time with the topic of “Friendship and Love Among Men.”

Our experience with the first LY Café was a very fruitful one. Many of those who joined the first Café expressed interest in joining again. As a facilitator, I felt that 3 hours was still too short a time, and I was happy to note that some took the extra effort to extend the connections made and kept contact.

Each Café session is, of course, a work-in-progress, and we’re always on the lookout on how to improve the next from the last. We’re looking forward to this next session.

For those who are interested to sign up and join, please go to Manila Gay Guy’s post here. It has instructions and links on how to register.

Hope we see and hear from you at the Café!

It’s More Fun

2012-01-10T18:39:00.000+08:00

When the Department of Tourism unveiled its latest campaign,“It’s More Fun In the Philippines,” the online reaction was immediate.Typically of Filipinos, there were lots of ayes as well as nays, although Imust say, unlike the previous “Pilipinas Kay Ganda” fiasco, there were moreayes than nays with the newest campaign. And as usual the quick-witted onestossed off funny and pun-y parodies left and right.

I’m not concerned that Switzerland had an “It’s more fun”campaign back in 1951. I’m also not bothered that people are having fun of theline, regardless if the humor is good-natured or scathing, whether at ourexpense or not. Let’s face it, we make a joke out of most everything. Besides,the fact that people have taken the slogan and are running away with it proveshow, truly, it is more fun in the Philippines. When you crowd-source something,expect a multitude of results. But trust that out of all that, gems will riseto the surface.

The following definitely will not, hehehe.

As you can see, I just wanna have fun.

It’s More Pun In Da Philippines!

2012-01-06T12:17:00.001+08:00

In honor of the Department of Tourism’s new international campaign, here is my proposed sub-campaign for it, with matching examples! The following are taken from the site Kapisanan Philippine Centre:

Beauty parlor in San Juan: “Cut & Face”
Wholesaler of balut in Batangas: “Starducks”
Fast food in Nueva Ecija: “Violybee” 
Pampanga resto: “Mekeni Rogers”
Internet café: “Cafe Pindot”
Laundromat in Manila: “Summa Cum Laundry”
Laundromat in Sikatuna: “Star Wash: Attack of the Clothes”
Petshop in Kamuning: “Pakita Mo Pet Mo”
Bakery: “Bread Pit”
Bank in Alabang: “Alabank”
Boxing gym: “Blow Jab”
Tombstone maker in Antipolo: “Lito Lapida”
Copy center in Sikatuna Village: “Pakopya ni Edgar”
Beerhouse in Cavite: “Chickpoint”
Internet cafe in Taguig: “n@kopi@”
Kambingan: “Sa Goat Kita”
Salon: “Curl Up And Dye”
Lugawan in Bulacan: “Gee Congee”
Shoe repair shop in Marikina: “Dr. Shoe-Bago”
Shoe repair along Commonwealth: “SHOEPERMAN: we will HEEL you, save your SOLE, and even DYE for you”
Petshop: “Petness First”
Flower shop: “Susan’s Roses”
Taxicab: “Income Taxi”
Car repair shop: “Bangga ka ‘day?”
Aquatic pet store in Malolos: “Fish Be With You”
Laundry shop: “Wash Your Problem”
Chicharon store: “Chicha Hut”
Neighborhood pizza store: “Pizza Hot”
Barbershop in Cagayan de Oro: “Pinoy Big Barber”
Salon: “Hair Dot Comb”

The Love & Relationships Fabcast, Part Four

2012-01-05T18:40:00.002+08:00

As we gently wrap-up our kilometric Fabcast on “love and relationships among men,” we ask each and everyone, whether one is single or committed, to give a message to their “loved one.” (Take note, Kuya Law calls out the name of someone who’s the “inspiration of the LGTB community.”)

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Music credits:
“Love Today” by Mika
“The Days Between” from the movie Stepmom (1998) by John Williams
“I Didn’t Know I Was Looking For Love” by Everything But The Girl

Incomplete

2012-01-05T18:02:00.002+08:00

I know I’m not whole, and I will never be whole. I will always be incomplete, ever learning, ever curious, ever striving to improve. I will fail and falter, and I will make mistakes. But that goes with the territory.

And I know I cannot do this alone.

Never stop learning. Never stop being curious. Never stop trying to improve.

The Changing Seasons

2012-01-03T11:13:00.003+08:00

Noticed the new header? New year, new season. It just seems appropriate that 2012 marks my 12th season of The McVie Show.

No, I have not been blogging for 12 years. If you check out below my header, I started blogging Jan. 20, 2004. Seventeen days from now, my blog will turn eight years old. So I have seventeen days to play around with the new look of my blog (yeah, including the header; I can still change it if I want to). I know, I know, I should just debut everything on Jan. 20, right? Well, I’d like to think of this as the beta stage.

I think even the content should have some changes. Never stop learning, I say. So brace yourself. Change is inevitable.

The Love & Relationships Fabcast, Part Three

2012-01-02T17:58:00.001+08:00

The Fabcasters and the peanut gallery continue to tackle the questions “Why do I look for love?” and “Why do I go into a relationship?”

Towards the end, you can hear Kidlatdakila bid the group an early farewell because he still has to take the last bus to Laguna.

Watch out for the fourth and last part, when we all wrap-up this epic recording.

DownloadPart 3 (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Why Do Fools Fall In Love?” by Diana Ross
“Love Me For A Reason” by Boyzone

The Question

2012-01-02T14:31:00.000+08:00

I come to the party late and alone. People have already been mingling in groups, some flitting from one cluster to the next. I make my way from the welcome booth at the entrance, to the table just outside the backyard, to the living room, then to the dining area and kitchen. At each area I stop and say hi to the people I know. And all of them ask me the same question:

“Where’s D?”

At first I answer, “He’s a callboy eh.” For those who get it immediately, that reply is sufficient. For those who display puzzled look on their faces, I explain further: “He’s working right now at the call center. You know, night shift.”

This is the MGGFF Christmas party, so there are people there who know me personally (and vice versa), and those who know me by online reputation. Even the latter ones ask me the question, or variations thereof:

“Where’s your BF?”

“Where’s your other half?”

“Is D not with you?”

After a while I get tired of giving my silly “call boy” answer, and just cut to the chase. But even that gets tiring pretty fast.

Then it dawns on me. They do not even bother to follow up their “Hi, Joel!” with, “How are you?” or “What’s up with you?” or “How was your Christmas?” or “Long time, no see!” Instead, why are they all looking for D? Is it a must for couples to come to parties together? Are we a packaged deal? And more importantly: AREN’T YOU GUYS EVEN HAPPY THAT I’M HERE?!

Whoever started this two-become-one thinking has got to be bonkers.

Out With The Old, In With The New

2012-01-01T13:54:00.003+08:00

2011 was as it was. Let 2012 be as it will be.

The Love & Relationships Fabcast, Part Two

2011-12-30T18:21:00.000+08:00

And now, part two of our epic and fairly long discussion on love and relationships among men.

One by one, the Fabcasters and the peanut gallery tackle the questions: Why do I look for love? Why do I go into a relationship?

On a personal note, I noticed that Migs and Tony found the discussions “heavy” and a bit on the “cheesy” side. I agree on the cheesy part, but I don’t think it was heavy; as usual, silly side-comments abound.

Listen and enjoy!

DownloadPart 2 (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Love Is Strange” by Everything But The Girl
“Love Montage” from the soundtrack of Dying Young by James Newton Howard
“Theme from Beauty And The Beast” by Lee Holdrige and Don Davis
“Theme from Somewhere In Time” by John Barry
“Love Theme” from Forever Young by Jerry Goldsmith
“Theme from E.T. The Extra-Terrestial” by John Williams

Death Becomes Us

2011-12-30T17:45:00.002+08:00

“Hellooooow?! Deeeath!” – Remington, “Zombadings 1: Patayin sa Shokot si Remington”

* * * * *

I see how affected some of my friends are when they come face to face with death, and I ask myself: Am I lucky that, early in my life, I have experienced several deaths of very close loved ones that I now have a matter-of-fact acceptance of death? Or am I doomed because I’m unmoved when it comes to loss?

I rarely am saddened by news of death these days. Instead, I’m often more shocked, but only because of the unexpectedness or the suddenness of death. If it’s expected, like when my grandmother died of old age, I even see it as a happy occasion, for at last she was at rest (increasingly in her last years, she had trouble moving about, her memory was increasingly slipping and she had started addressing people who had been long gone). When my dad died, I actually felt happy for him because he himself told us how ready he was to meet his Creator. I was sad more for my mom; it’s a good thing that she showed us how resilient she was in the days after, so that I stopped worrying about her.

Some might be shocked at my unfazed reaction in the face of death, especially of someone who is not really close to me. They may even view this as callousness on my part, and perhaps to a degree they may be right. But what may be callous to some is merely matter-of-fact to me. And if one would go all meta-physical about it, death is but part of life. Face it, death is part of reality.

I realize that I am neither lucky nor doomed. We cope in different ways, and they are all valid so long as it works for you and that you are not hurting yourself and others in the process. Sadness, anger, numbness or even indifference—all are but ways of coping with the reality of death.

So don’t expect me to go all weepy at your funeral because I won’t. Besides, you’re dead already.

Last Order Sa Korean Grill

2011-12-30T00:22:00.002+08:00

It’s been some time since the Fabcasters had time to bond with one another, so on Christmas day we decided to have dinner at a Korean grill near Tomas Morato. Migs, Gibbs and I were the first to arrive, and we decided to order ahead instead of waiting for the others.

For appetizers they trotted out kimchi, pickled onions and a delicious shredded lettuce salad. For our main course, we chose grilled pork and beef belly. To eat them, one takes a piece of grilled meat and put it on a lettuce leaf, add chopped fresh garlic and onion if one so desires, roll the lettuce and eat it with bare hands. It’s a bit high-involvement, but hey, it also seems so healthy. We asked the waitress to grill the meat for us at a nearby table, since we weren’t sure of our grilling skills.

We were nearly finished with our initial batch of appetizers when two more friends arrived and joined us for dinner. So Gibbs called a waitress over.

“Miss, puwede pa bang dagdagan pa ang appetizers? Puwedeng dagdagan yung lettuce?” he asked.

“Ay, leetus? Sige ba, sir!” replied the waiter. Then he turned and shouted into the kitchen, “Isa pang leetus!”

I turned to Gibbs who was beside me, then to Migs. We were all grinning.

After a while the main course was all grilled and ready to serve. The waitress placed the plate in front of us and proudly announced, “Ito na po ang inyong beef billy.”

There was a second of silence, then someone repeated what she said. “Ah, beef billy?”

“Opo sir,” she replied. “Beef billy.” Then she proceeded to finish grilling the pork belly.

“Okaaay,” I said.

Gibbs wanted to order drinks, so he called a waiter over. The waiter took Gibb’s order, then asked us if we wanted to order drinks too. “Water na lang,” Migs said.

“Isang Coke Zero at tow-big,” the waiter repeated our order then left to get them.

Then the waitress placed on the table our last order. “Eto sir,” she said, “pork billy.”

We all nodded. “Aaah, pork billy.”

She walked away, done with her grilling duties.

Gibbs turned to us and said, “At least consistent sila.”

Ho, ho, ho.

The Love & Relationships Fabcast, Part One

2011-12-28T12:20:00.002+08:00

After The Love Yourself Café, Migs had the Fabcasters and some of those who were also involved to a discussion on “Love and Relationships,” which was also the theme of the first Café.

While all five Fabcasters were present in the Café, sadly two of them couldn’t make it to the Fabcast recording.

This discussion turned out to be the lengthiest one for 2011. I’ve broken it down into four parts to make the downloading or listening via streaming more manageable.

Downloadthis Fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Tara’s Theme” from the soundtrack of Gone With The Wind by Max Steiner
“Georgetown” from the soundtrack of St. Elmo’s Fire by David Foster
“My Life Would Suck Without Someone Like You” mash-up

Ho-Ho-Ho!

2011-12-25T18:01:00.001+08:00

D has a particular gait, a shuffle almost, that he does when he’s particularly happy. It’s like a cross between a penguin and someone who’s constipated, or at least one who’s in dire need to do number two. His head swings left and right, and his steps are in small shuffles. He usually has a shy grin on his face as he shuffles, and when he stops, he more often than not says something like, “Yay!” or a variation thereof.

I know D needed to be home in Bataan for Christmas day, but I also know how difficult it is for him to get a bus ride home. So a week before Christmas I offered, “Let me drive you to Bataan.” I’ve always loved driving, and I don’t shy away from long road trips. Given his work schedule, he gets off Saturday morning, so we can only leave after his work.

7am, day before Christmas, D woke me up. “Let me just get my things and we’ll go,” he said. He packed just enough clothes for three days, and he counted the hundred-peso bills he’d distribute to his pamangkins. A quick shower and change into shorts and a t-shirt, and I was ready.

EDSA traffic wasn’t as heavy, but there were expected bottlenecks, especially in the areas where the provincial bus stations are located. But once we got to NLEX, it was a smooth ride all the way. D took a nap from my place to our first pit stop at a gas station. After that we were listening to music and watching the Luzon flatlands whiz by. I decided to skip San Fernando and the other Pampanga towns before Bataan because I didn’t want the holiday traffic and the slow, ubiquitous tricycles that slow down the drive. So I took SCTEX, which I think was also the first D passed through there.

“Wow, ang ganda ng view!” he yelled excitedly, as we saw the mountain ranges of what we suspect is where Subic is located.

Prior to the trip, I didn’t even check Orlando’s oil and water; I only had his tires inflated and his gas tank filled. I trusted he wouldn’t break down on me.

We got to the Dinalupihan exit, and after a few minutes we were at the plaza of D’s hometown. There was a convenience store nearby and I decided to buy a bottle of water to drink on my trip back to Manila.

“Thank you, hon! Happy holidays!” D beamed at me. He then grabbed his bags, including a paper bag containing shampoo for his dog May, and got out of Orlando. “Wala ba akong naiwan?” he looked around the back seat. “Do one final check,” I said. “All here!” he happily declared.

“See you in a few days,” I said to him.

And then he walked to the front of the convenience store, where the pedicabs were waiting for passengers. No, not walked; he shuffled his happy shuffle. I saw him flag down a pedicab, and waited until it drove away. Then I drove away.

At a constant, leisurely pace of around 80kph on the highway, I made it in around 5 hours (shorter had there been no traffic on EDSA leaving from and coming back to Manila).

I felt like Santa bringing a special gift to a family in Bataan. It was one happy road trip all the way.

My Space

2011-12-23T11:33:00.001+08:00

There’s something to be said about having a place of your own. It’s your own personal physical space, your domain. There, you are the master of your keep.

When I was still living with my folks and siblings in Marikina, my bedroom was my sanctuary. My mom used to call it Joel’s sanctum sanctorum, and everybody knew well enough not to enter there without permission.

When I first moved out and rented a room in Makati, I was sharing a two-bedroom condo with a female friend. We had separate bedrooms (both had their respective bathrooms), and we were only three in the house (she had her maid who took care of her two pugs). So we pretty much kept mostly to ourselves, except during breakfast and Saturday lunches.

Then I moved to a studio-type unit still within Makati’s CBD. My stay there was pretty great; it was fully furnished, and within walking distance from Greenbelt. However, such a great deal came with a caveat—I had it only for almost half a year, and when the lease ends the owner was going to claim it for his use.

I next rented a room in this old four-bedroom house in Iba Street, Quezon City. It was a huge house, so our landlord rented out three of the rooms. It was okay at the start; Migs was also a housemate of mine. But soon after he moved out, and the other rooms were soon rented out to others. When I left, there were 5 more people in the house. Even though it was a huge house, we had to share in the common bathroom. It didn’t help that one of them was a female; when she left a pair of her panties and bra hanging on the shower curtain rod, I muttered to myself, “That’s it, time to move.”

So now I’m in a fairly new one-bedroom condo unit in Mandaluyong. I’m nearer to Makati now, and when our office moves to Shaw next year, I’ll be one MRT station away from the office. It’s barely furnished, but at least it has a queen-size bed, aircon, refrigerator and water heater for the shower. Because of the holiday season, I haven’t had time to fix things and buy stuff, so my belongings are just piled willy-nilly everywhere. In the next few months the bulk of my spending will go to furnishing the place up. I will need to be prudent about it; I am merely renting, after all.

Still, I had one of my most relaxing sleeps ever on the first night that I slept alone in my new space. I finally have my sanctuary again.

Marry And Bright?

2011-12-22T15:28:00.000+08:00

Some people have asked me to push for gay marriage here in The McVie Show. Yes, I agree with you that there should be no more discrimination of marriage; why should marriage be only for heterosexuals? As far as gay marriage is concerned, I don’t have a problem with the “gay” part.

However, I don’t believe in marriage, not unless there’s divorce.

I’m fine with the idea of two consenting adults agreeing to be united, and the state acknowledging their union and awarding them with certain privileges and benefits. But to lock in two adults with no way out is, I believe, a concept that has lost its relevance to me because it is not grounded on reality. Yes, there will be couples who can make it ‘til Death do them part. But not all marriages will succeed and survive.

In fact, I’d rather just live in together. If you last, then congrats; if you don’t, well, at least untangling need not be messy and drawn-out.

Walang Iwanan, Help CDO & Iligan

2011-12-22T13:02:00.001+08:00

Donate to the Philippine Red Cross at: www.redcross.org.ph/donatenow

Knocked Out

2011-12-17T00:03:00.001+08:00

Thursday evening we had our office Christmas party, and for the third year in a row I was one of the hosts for the event. We had boxer Brian Viloria, reigning WBO Flyweight champion, and his wife as special guests. We got him to pick out the grand raffle winner. He even stayed on and danced the night away with us—and boy, the man can dance. Brian is such a down-to-earth guy. And compared to that other boxing champ who is also a politician, Brian’s much easier to deal with and comes with an entourage of only one, his better half.

On Friday afternoon he and his wife drop by our office for a courtesy call. While he and his wife were talking to our bosses, I tweeted the following: “Brian Viloria in da hawz! He and his wife brought Krispy Kreme for the whole dept. He even personally offered me a doughnut. Ang cute niya.”

And then few minutes later, he tweeted back: “It’s nothing really. Merry Xmas and Happy New Years to you and (our office).”

And then I received a notification via email that he had started following me on Twitter.

And then I died.

Adele Is Not A Party-Pooper

2011-12-14T12:00:00.003+08:00

“Why is there no music? There should be music! Where’s the DJ? Where’s my music? Where’s my music?!”

That was my officemate in charge of our company party, in her I’m-in-charge-and-panicking mode. It was the start of the party, and the early guests were plenty. They were our clients and business partners, and we made sure the food was plentiful, the alcohol flowing, the raffle prizes numerous and the entertainment continuous. But the hired DJ who’s supposed to play music during dinner was still stuck in horrendous holiday traffic. How do we put our best foot forward when we already tripped at the start?

She was looking at me for answers. I was at the control booth; we were going to use my laptop to play our AVPs later, so my Macbook was already hooked up to the system. I pulled up my iTunes and said, “I’ll play something.”

Suddenly, my fantasy of being a DJ became a reality. Okay, okay, so I wasn’t using professional equipment and the music transitions weren’t seamless. But for the first time, I was playing music for a major party. Eeeee! Hahaha!

Siyempre fineel-na-feel ko ang pagka-DJ, noh!

I started with the safe choices, the current hot dance hits: “We Found Love” by Rihanna, “Moves Like Jagger” by Maroon 5, “Sexy And I Know It” by LMFAO, “Born This Way” by Lady Gaga. I wasn’t too worried about my musical choices anyway; after all, the guests were either busy eating or schmoozing with one another. I guess because of that, I decided to push it a bit.

First, I decided to play David Guetta’s “Titanium.” Sure, it’s not a pop hit, and I’m sure most of the guests weren’t familiar with it. But David Guetta is David Guetta, and his music practically screams, “Party!”

Then I went with the kinda-safe-but-not-really choice; I played one mash-up after another. First was a Britney-Rihanna-JLo combo, “S&M Against The Floor.” Then a LMFAO-Ke$ha-Britney Spears-Lady Gaga-Katy Perry mega-mash-up, “Party Rock Anthem.” I was playing a third mash-up of Madonna-Lady Gaga-Pitbull, “You Know You Want Love Celebration,” when the idea hit me.

What if I play Adele at a party?

I mean, who would have thought that the woman responsible for an increase in emo levels worldwide would have a place at a party? Sure, I have heard of dance remixes of her songs, but I didn’t have any of those in my iTunes. I only had her album, “21.”

Still, why not? There’s “Rumor Has It” after all.

To prepare for Adele, I first played Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass” and Katy Perry’s “The One That Got Away” first. And then I took a deep breath and clicked PLAY.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thu-thu-thump! Thump! Thump!
Oooh! Oooh!
She…
She ain’t real…!

Hey, it works! Go Adele!

Too bad I couldn’t run onstage and copy the steps of the Troubletones from Glee, but that would be too much.

The Pride Fabcast, Parts 1 & 2

2011-12-03T01:05:00.001+08:00

Part One:

Here the Fabcasters and the peanut gallery tackle the question of Gay Pride. Are we proud of being gay? What is it that we are proud of? We asked each and every one to say his piece. And it’s very interesting to hear twelve different points of view, twelve different takes on gay pride. From still staying in the closet to being out in the open, from the creative field to the corporate world, twelve different voices speak out their learning and their truths.

This Fabcast was recorded on the same night as the “Prude Fabcast,” thus there was no more roll-call. For the record, the Fabcasters are: Corporate Closet (aka CC), Gibbs, McVie, Migs and Tony. And the members of the peanut gallery for this recording are: Dan, Dean, Inye, Joms, Londonboy, Luis and Paul (aka Iamtofuboy).

PART 1:

Downloadpart 1 (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Get Up Stand Up” by Bob Marley & The Wailers
“Born This Way (DrewG & Brian Cua Dirty Pop Mix)” by Lady Gaga
“Could You Be Loved” by Bob Marley & The Wailers

Part Two:

Let me tell you an interesting side story regarding this particular recording.

Before we began recording for that evening, Migs realized that he had forgotten to charge the rechargeable batteries of his digital recorder. So while he was charging them, he asked CC for an extra pair of disposable AAA batteries; those were what we used to record the “Departures” and “Prude” Fabcasts. Unfortunately the disposable batteries were from CC’s TV remote; he warned us that the batteries were kinda old and may not last until the end of the recording. (If you can recall, in part one there was a pause and then you’d hear me—which was then echoed by Migs—ask out loud, “Teh? Na-re-record ba?” That was us checking to see if CC’s batteries had died in the middle of recording.)

We continued to record, segueing seamlessly into the “Prude” fabcast. When we finished with that, we decided to proceed and record the “Pride” Fabcast. At this point Migs took out the disposable batteries and replaced them with the partially charged disposable batteries of his. He figured that, given the number of minutes they were charged, the batteries could last for at least one more recording session.

Cut to near the end of the recording: Migs, as a joke, asked AJ out loud, “AJ, are you proud of being gay?” And I, along with several others, immediately chanted the by-now classic lines of Roderick Paulate from the movie, Zombadings: “Charoterang isprikitik, umappear ka vahkler. Magpa-feel, magpasense, ditey sa baler. Witiz shokoley ang udangchi ditey. Sa fezlaboom mo marz na super kalerkey!”

I remember laughing out loud afterwards and continuing the discussion when suddenly Migs stopped us and announced that he saw the battery indicator light of his recorder blink out. “Naubos na ang battery!” he exclaimed. And when we checked at which part the disposable batteries died, it was right after he asked AJ his question. We managed to record “Charoterang isprikitik, umapp—” and then silence. We had to borrow another pair of disposable batteries from CC to finish the recording.

I guess for this recording, the Fabcasters were all present.

PART 2:

Downloadpart 2 (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Queer” by Garbage
“Thanksgiving” by George Winston
“Theme From Mahogany (Do You Know Where You’re Going To)” by Diana Ross
“Redemption Song” by Bob Marley & The Wailers

A Fairly Smooth Ride With A Few Bumps

2011-12-01T22:29:00.001+08:00

“The Road”
Directed by Yam Laranas
GMA Films

Beautiful cinematography, masterful evoking of mood and clever storytelling structure by Yam Laranas. But why do some characters act like they’re following a script and not their inner motivations? Thus certain illogical moments break the spell and remind viewers that they are just watching a movie. Carmina Villaroel is a hoot, and child actor Renz Valerio is so adorable. I was too distracted by his crooked smile and pinch-worthy cheeks to be scared during his portion of the film. And what’s this?! Jaclyn Jose, underused?! The horror!

An Addendum To “Teach P How To Doogie?”

2011-11-30T11:46:00.001+08:00

While discussing the Piolo-KC fiasco with the Jonas Bagas (gay activist extraordinaire, staunch Riza Hontiveros supporter and all-around Mr. Humanity, thus the “the” before his name, LOL), he reminded me of a very important point which I totally missed in my previous episode of The McVie Show.

(What’s more, his reminder made me realize that I made an unstated assumption in my previous episode; by keeping quiet on my assumption, I was being unfair to Piolo. But more of that later.)

Some say it with concern, most say it bluntly and with much chiding: “Mag-out ka na kasi, Piola!” What’s more, the ones screaming for him to step out of the closet are gay guys.

Haven’t we in the community seen for ourselves how cruel it is to force people to come out when they’re not yet ready, for whatever reasons they have? Didn’t we as gay guys experience for ourselves first-hand how unsettling for us to be pressured into admitting we’re gay? Coming out is a personal choice, done on one’s own time and pace.

And here is where I will state my assumption plainly: ASSUMING that Piolo is gay, it seems clear that he has come out to certain guys (especially the ones linked to him). But to pressure him to come out to the whole world is, I think, unrealistic, cruel and unnecessary. Unrealistic because his current career requires that he appear straight. Cruel because it’s his call, not ours. Unnecessary because apparently most of the people I know in the community treat his sexual preference as an “open secret,” so what for?

Jonas Bagas raised a valid point. We may crack all sorts of jokes about the split-up, from the innocuous to the bitchy. But let’s draw the line when it comes to calls for him to come out. The community may want him to come out because he can champion the pink cause and wave the rainbow flag for us. He’ll be the poster child of the Proud Pink Pinoy, and I’m sure bonggang-bongga ang poster! But that’s not for us to decide.

That’s his choice to make. Or not.

Teach P How To Doogie?

2011-11-29T16:13:00.001+08:00

So many people are a-buzz about Piolo Pascual and KC Concepcion’s break-up, and her interview in “The Buzz.” Let’s not beat around the bush: her interview further fueled talks that Piolo is gay. To be fair to her, she never categorically outed her ex-boyfriend. But this didn’t stop the Tweeple (including yours truly) from having fun at their expense. And why shouldn’t we? They are public persons, and what we’ve done is similar to what late-night show hosts dish out in their opening monologues.

But there are also those who have earnest takes on the matter, just like this following comment that I’ve seen echoed by several on Facebook: “Why doesn’t Piolo just come out and fashion a career just like Neil Patrick Harris?”

Perhaps some who said that were half-kidding. I am sure that some, based on the tone of their comment, were totally serious. So for those who earnestly think that Piolo can be the Pinoy NPH, let me say in all earnestness: it is not that simple.

Piolo cannot fashion a career like Neil Patrick Harris. NPH may have started as lead star of his own show “Doogie Howser, MD,” but he was a child actor back then. When he came back into the scene, he was in mostly supporting roles, often comedic in tone. His comeback breakthrough was spoofing himself in Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle. And he solidified his comeback with his performance in the ensemble comedy, “How I Met Your Mother.”

Piolo, on the other hand, is a matinee idol of a romantic lead mode. He’s not much of a comedian (in his romantic comedies with Judy Ann Santos, it’s Juday who supplies the comedy; he plays it straight, pun intended). And I don’t know if he can re-invent himself as an action star (besides, as far as local showbiz is concerned, the action genre is currently in deep hibernation). So for now he’s stuck playing male romantic lead.

Aye, there’s the rub. So far, no openly gay actor of such massive popularity as Piolo’s (just among Filipinos, of course) has ever thrived as a romantic lead. Can you name one? Didn’t think so.

Rock Hudson built a career out of being a romantic lead, but it was only when he was dying of AIDS that his homosexuality was talked about in the open. But who remembers Rupert Everett? Didn’t think so either.

Romantic movies require a suspension of disbelief and the willingness of the audience to submit themselves to two hours of make-believe. The female audience members should identify with the leading lady, and the male audience with the leading man. (An aside: for me, one of the most effective romantic male leads today is John Lloyd Cruz. He is someone even straight guys will say is a tunay na lalaki whom they can easily identify.) By coming out, an actor ruins his chance to be the fantasy figure of the audience. By declaring himself in no uncertain terms that he’s gay, an actor allows too much of reality to intrude into the make-believe.

So what can Piolo do at this point? Nothing, really. He should just keep quiet and weather the storm.

Meanwhile, if I were him, I’d start charting a new career course. Revive the action thriller genre and do ala-Keanu Reeves in Speed, or play a spy like Kevin Costner’s role in the thriller No Way Out. Or perhaps he can produce and star in a Yam Laranas horror film.

But he should avoid a movie musical at all costs.

No More Drama

2011-11-28T16:19:00.001+08:00

I used to be a drama queen.

When I was younger I didn’t have that many friends. And I couldn’t tell my parents or my siblings my problems because I feared they’d think me strange. So I just soaked and wallowed in all that drama. I perfected my personal pity party playing in my head. All the songs on the radio were perfect for my situation, and I’d listen to several songs again and again because every word, every lyrics slashed deeper and deeper into my heart. “All By Myself.” “You’re In My Heart, You’re In My Soul.” “What Kind Of Fool.” “Alone Again, Naturally.” “On My Own.” The whole soundtrack of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom Of The Opera. Notice a pattern? They’re all about love.

Yes, love was the one thing that I majored in drama. Family problems? Not much. Friends misunderstanding? I was too polite and courteous. But I was the poster boy for unrequited love. I was attracted to other guys, but at the back of my mind an alarm repeatedly whispered, “Beware!” And so I kept quiet, kept them all inside. But all the while I wanted the boys to reciprocate what I felt; worse, I fell for straight guys. This went on for years, even after I graduated from college.

When I was about to hit 30, I stayed out all night every Friday and Saturday. I forgot what my bedroom looked like during weekend nights as I looked for love in all the right—and wrong—places.

Then one day, it just hit me. Life is about choices. And happiness is a choice.

I don’t remember now how I ditched the drama. All I can remember—or maybe all I chose to remember—is vowing to stop feeling sorry for myself.

And whereas before I used comedy as both a crutch and a coping mechanism, I now fully embraced it. Life is random; life is absurd. And I choose to laugh in the face of all that. Life is already hard as it is, why make things harder? Shrug your shoulders, throw your head back and smile. After all, laughter is a far more enjoyable act than crying, and certainly far less embarrassing. Smiling uses fewer muscles so it’s much less tiring than frowning.

At first I stopped being romantic. But my mistake was to swing the opposite direction and appropriated a cynical stance. Eventually it became clear to me that cynicism has its limits; worse, cynicism is unsustainable. So instead I became a realist. And that was when I started to grow up.

I used to be a drama queen, but not anymore.

The Prude Fabcast, Part Three

2011-11-26T18:50:00.001+08:00

At long last, the third and last part is online! Pardon for the delay. Alam mo naman ang ating Ate Migs, maraming napakamahalagang inaatupag. But hey, these are alarming times, and responses like his are necessary.

But let’s put the serious aside first. Here is the third and last part of “The Prude Fabcast” with Iamtofuboy. Or maybe we should call it The Grilling of Paul.

As we finally conclude the recording, the Fabcasters and some members of the peanut gallery give their two-cents worth. We touch on the ideas of self-worth and self-image, closure and moving on from past relationships, and the idea of de-coupling sex from the relationship (or living a “compartmentalized” life, according to CC).

Click on the link and enjoy!

Downloadthis fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Rapper’s Delight” by Sugarhill Gang
“Change” by Tears For Fears
“Intermezzo from Cavalleria Rusticana” by Muscagni
“The John Dunbar Theme (from Dances With Wolves)” by John Barry
“Theme from Father Of The Bride” by James Newton Howard
“If She Knew What She Wants” by The Bangles

Wait A Minute

2011-11-22T12:15:00.001+08:00

In the public debate on the RH Bill, the Anti-RH camp often uses as a reason the “Big Bad Pharma Companies” that allegedly are supporting (and perhaps even funding?) the push to have the RH bill approved because it means more business for their products, be they condoms or medicines for abortion.

Fine, I understand the simplistic economic cause-and-effect. But using the same line of argument, wouldn’t more industries benefit a lot more from the birth of a child? From hospitals to medicines to baby products--these are multi-billion dollar industries. So why aren’t those companies supporting the Anti-RH camp?

Safe Spaces

2011-11-21T15:02:00.001+08:00

I found it interesting that fellow Fabcaster Tony described gay places such as bathhouses, gay bars and dance clubs, and massage parlors (that cater to a gay clientele) as “safe spaces.”

Safe spaces. Until Tony mentioned that term, I never thought of such a concept. But I realized, yes, we gay men do need our safe spaces. These are places where we can go to and we can feel safe. We can be ourselves and not feel out of place or scorned by the rest of society. We can mingle with like-minded folks, people like us, and feel accepted.

If you look at current gay safe places, most of them are dark--dark interiors, discreet facades, and open only at night. I suppose this is in response to how homosexuals are marginalized.

Which is why the recently-concluded first-ever Love Yourself Cafe matters more than just a grand EB. The vision for the Cafe is simple, stated in its poster: “A safe space for casual conversations on topics that dare, with people who care, to question and share.” Of the more than a hundred who signed up, around 30 guys were chosen for the first Cafe.

It was a relaxing, enjoyable night. The venue was at an undisclosed condo in Makati. We met a lot of new faces for the first time; in fact, I’m sure there are in-the-closet guys there who perhaps will feel awkward if you bump into them during the day, perhaps, and they’re with their officemates and you’re, like, “Huuuuy, teh! Kamustasa?!” with matching flailing of arms. I bet in that instant they’d want the ground to open up and eat you--not them, mind you, but you mismo--alive. From as young as 17 to as old as 50+, from the closeted discreet to flamboyantly out, from the hopeful to the jaded (and back again), there was a rainbow coalition of different hues that night.

Of course the event still had to be done discreetly. That’s what happens when you include discreet guys. Perhaps there will be a world wherein being gay is not seen as being different, and straight-acting gay guys will not mind being identified as “gay;” but for now, this is reality, and we must learn to adjust accordingly.

One of the dreams of the Love Yourself people is that the Cafe become an actual venue. Now, how does one have a Cafe that closeted gay guys will not be afraid of being seen in there? Methinks it needs to be a for-members-only Cafe, and the entrance should be discreet. Maybe it should just look like a house on the outside, or the entrance is on a small side street. Haaay, one of these days.

Meanwhile, there will be another Cafe, I’m sure. Just watch out for announcements.

I Heart Laughing

2011-11-17T11:12:00.001+08:00

(Thank you, Jonas Bagas, for posting the following poem on your Facebook wall. I immediately fell in love with its attitude and its message. The title alone speaks so much to me. I just have to share it to you guys.)

The Laughing Heart
 by Charles Bukowski
  
your life is your life
 don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission. 
be on the watch.
 there are ways out.
 there is a light somewhere. 
it may not be much light but
 it beats the darkness. 
be on the watch.
 the gods will offer you chances. 
know them.
 take them.
 you can’t beat death but
 you can beat death in life, sometimes.
 and the more often you learn to do it,
 the more light there will be.
 your life is your life. 
know it while you have it.
 you are marvelous 
the gods wait to delight
 in you.

I Wonder

2011-11-15T18:15:00.001+08:00

When the call first came out online, I shrugged it off. “Vote for the Palawan Underground River as one of the new 7 Wonders of Nature!” Voting was online, so a lot of these calls were re-tweeted on Twitter or reposted on people’s Facebook status.

I never bothered to vote.

Not because I’m not nationalistic. Not because I’d prefer the Chocolate Hills of Bohol to be the Philippines’ nominee, simply because I’m a Boholano. Not because I have not personally been there and seen the site with my own two eyes.

It’s because I don’t agree that the new 7 Wonders of Nature (or any other 7 Wonders, for that matter) should be decided by popular vote. There should be more thought behind declaring sites as a “world wonder,” more than just mob mentality.

A cursory investigation will reveal that the new 7 Wonders is a private endeavor. Even the UNSECO has disavowed any connection with the new movement (from Wikipedia):

However, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), in a press release on June 20, 2007, reaffirmed that it has no link with the “private initiative.” The press release concluded:

‘There is no comparison between Mr. Weber's mediatised campaign and the scientific and educational work resulting from the inscription of sites on UNESCO's World Heritage List. The list of the 7 New Wonders of the World will be the result of a private undertaking, reflecting only the opinions of those with access to the Internet and not the entire world. This initiative cannot, in any significant and sustainable manner, contribute to the preservation of sites elected by this public.’
—UNESCO

Makes me wonder what really is the true motive behind this new 7 Wonders movement.

(Here’s an interesting article: http://www.goseewrite.com/2011/11/new-7-wonders-world-scam-behind-sham/)

Be Responsible

2011-11-14T18:02:00.001+08:00

Presenting two quotes from two people who will remain anonymous. Who they are is not important; rather, the situations in which they find themselves in, and how they view their situations is what I want to point out. Take a look:

[1] “When I like someone, I tend to make my whole world revolve around that person that it hurts me when my effort can’t be reciprocated the way I imagine it to be. Can’t really blame myself since I’ve been wanting this so bad for so long now.”

[2] “One of the things that I really am working on processing for myself has a lot to do with my relationship with my mother and how in many ways I try to re-live that in my interactions with (Name of Girlfriend). I really turn into an immature boy when she is trying to address a grievance with me. In Freudian terms, I see this as part of the so-called Madonna-Whore Complex. I’m still trying to work through all these issues but I do know that I also tend to treat (Name of Girlfriend) as an extension of myself and not an independent person who is entitled to her own thoughts and feelings.”

* * * * * *

Two different guys, two different sentiments. One is already in his forties, the other in his early twenties. And to both of them I want to ask: “Where is your sense of responsibility?”

In life, many things are beyond our control due to outside forces, be it natural or man-made. But the one thing we can take control of is ourselves. Self-responsibility entails that a person take charge of his life, of his feelings and his actions. One becomes the captain of his self.

I get it when people look to their past in an attempt to understand their present. The manner in which we were raised by our parents, the way our relatives and friends treated us, and even the way authority figures like teachers behaved towards us--all of those have affected the way we look at ourselves, how we comport ourselves, and how we interact with others. I understand that knowing the past can help some people let go and move on. However I also fear that the past is used as an opportunity to lay blame on others.

I believe that part of growing up is to be able to rise above the transgressions of the past and live a responsible present. One doesn’t even need to dig up the skeletons of past wrongs to be able to do the present right. Wanting something so bad is one thing; but you only have yourself to blame for throwing your self-pride, dignity and common sense out the window just to snag someone. Not treating your girlfriend as her own independent person? You are responsible for your present actions; more importantly, you can choose to improve how you treat your loved ones.

In taking responsibility for ourselves, we also need to adopt a “Get real” attitude. This means that we should face reality on its own terms. To be captains of our souls we should not rely on Fate or Karma or 11-11-11 or the Almighty God to pave our futures for us. It would be nice to think that there is a Higher Power looking for our welfare, but I wouldn’t rely on it. Things happen, pure and simple. We plan what we can, we control what can be controlled, but things have a way of falling into place that we can’t always predict. How we accept them, and work with the cards that have been dealt to us, is a mark of someone willing to be responsible for his own fate.

Taking charge of our life doesn’t mean that we put ourselves above others. Rather, we own up to whatever it is we say or do. And we acknowledge that improvement comes from within. This means that we need to learn to be a friend and a mentor to ourselves. In improving ourselves, we cannot be too harsh or too self-critical with ourselves. We need to motivate ourselves not through fear, but because we love ourselves.

Past is past; the future is not yet written. So live in the present, be in the now. And be man enough to take responsibility for your choices, your actions, your life.

Lucban Longganiza, Part Two

2011-11-10T12:20:00.001+08:00

That Monday morning was a bright and cheerful one, perfect weather on our last day in Lucban. D decided to sleep late that morning, so it was just Londonboy, Calvin and I who went to town to have breakfast and to have a look around.

My two companions have been to Lucban before, and they recommended a restaurant near the plaza for breakfast. Calvin warned us that the serving time takes a little longer than usual, as is customary in most provincial eateries.

While waiting for our food, I couldn’t contain my curiosity. “Teka lang, guys,” I said, “I’ll just go to the 7-11 and check and see if Marvin is on duty again this morning.”

“Malamang,” Calvin said. “He was also on the morning shift yesterday.”

The convenience store was a short block away from the restaurant. I was there in no time. Even from the outside, I could see Marvin manning the counter.

I pushed the glass door in, and entered.

Without looking, I could tell a pair of eyes was following my every move. Instead of going towards the cashier, I turned right instead. I pretended to look for something on the shelves furthest from the counter. I also took that opportunity to check out the store. Aside from Marvin, there was the female supervisor behind the counter, but she was busy typing away at the store computer. At the small eating area near the microwave and the dispensers was a policeman having a snack. We four were the only ones inside.

I stopped in front of the toiletries, pretending I was looking for something. I bent over, looking at the bottommost shelf, curious what items were displayed there. When I stood up, Marvin was already beside me.

Aba! He left his station to approach me!

“Ano po ang hanap ninyo, sir?” he asked.

For a split-second I was stumped. I really wasn’t looking for anything, and I hadn’t thought of getting any item as an excuse to be in the convenience store.

“Hindi ko pa alam eh,” I decided to be truthful.

Marvin smiled. “Aaah,” he replied. “Hindi pa ninyo nahahanap” (truth be told, I’m not quite sure if the punctuation mark at the end of the word “nahahanap” should be a period or a question mark; the way he said it so softly, it sounded like something in between).

I’m impressed. He’s a sly one.

“Anong oras matatapos ang shift mo?” I asked. Hey, two can play that game.

“Ano, sir,” he replied. “Mga four, sir, ang tapos ko.”

“Aaaah,” I nodded. I knew we would be on the road back to Manila by then. Still I smiled, then raised my eyebrows knowingly at him as I asked, “So, taga-rito ka lang ba?”

Again Marvin had that shy smile on his lips. But his reply had a hint of a rueful tone. “Ay hindi po ako taga rito, sir. Ano po, taga-Majayjay po ako.” That was the next town after Lucban.

“Ah okay,” I replied. Then I walked away, pretending to continue browsing. He also decided it was best that he return to his post, lest his supervisor start wondering why he was taking so long with a customer.

I grabbed a small pack of Kleenex and walked to the counter to pay. Again, Marvin refused to break his eye-to-eye stare; again, I let my fingers brush his as I gave him my payment. And again, as I walked out the door I turned around and saw Marvin still staring at me.

I stepped out and never looked back again. The Lucban air was cool despite the bright morning sun, and a slight breeze caressed my cheeks as I smiled and walked back to my friends.

Lucban Longganiza, Part One

2011-11-09T10:43:00.000+08:00

Sunday morning in Lucban, we trouped to the only 7-11 near the plaza to buy provisions I realized I forgot to bring. While the others were lazily looking around the convenience store, I headed to the cashier after grabbing the stuff I needed.

Behind the counter was a man of about early twenties. His uniform looked one size too big, but I could tell his body type is more of the rounded kind. His round face was topped by wavy hair swept back and parted off-center, and he had eyes that naturally looked sleepy even when wide open. A shy smile was plastered on his lips. I took a peek at his nameplate: Marvin.

As he was ticking off the items I was purchasing, he kept looking at me straight in the eyes. He almost never took them off of mine. Mind you, I’m used to prolonged eye contact, and can match them in length and intensity. But after a few seconds I was the one who felt unnerved and broke off contact. WTF, is this Marvin coming on to me so blatantly?! I looked up again. His gaze was penetrating and constant. Dammit! I looked down again.

“Sir, may two pesos ba kayo?” he asked.

I looked back at D and the others, who by this time were behind me, waiting for me to finish my transaction. “You have two pesos?” I asked D. He fished out the coins and handed them to me. When I placed the coins on Marvin’s outstretched hand, I made sure my fingers brushed his palm. Then I looked at him again. His facial expression never changed, but he also didn’t take his eyes off me. Only when he dropped the coins in the cashier and got my change did he look away. I got my change, my purchases and went out behind the others, who had proceeded to exit earlier. Because I was last at the door, I looked back at Marvin. He maintained eye contact as I stepped out the door.

Outside, Londonboy exclaimed, “Teh! Anlagkit ng ngiti ng cashier sa iyo, hah! Ahahaha!”

D placed his arm around my shoulder and chimed in, “Oo nga. Jusko kung makatingin.”

Aba! Will I get to taste fresh local longganiza here in lazy Lucban?

To be continued.

The Things One Sees On Facebook: Week of 6-12 Nov 2011

2011-11-08T18:06:00.005+08:00

Let’s face it. Sometimes we see things posted on Facebook that make us laugh out loud, or at the very least get us going in a giggling fit. Sometimes we see something that moves us, or astounds us, whether in a good way or otherwise.

Here are some which got my attention recently:

[1] Corruption of the line: “Pag bakla, salot agad? Di ba puwedeng malas muna?”

[2] Steven Spielberg does a George Lucas. On the occasion of the Blu-Ray release of Jurassic Park, the director reworks his masterpiece to make it “less scary for the kids.” In turn, he makes it terrifying for adults.

[3] Will the real Ramona Bautista please stand up? Please stand up? Please stand up?

[4] Ramon Revilla, Sr. is a prime example of why the RH should be passed. Sheesh, no wonder he entered politics; otherwise, where will he get that money to support all of his children?

Lucban Virgins No More

2011-11-08T16:16:00.003+08:00

We’ve always wanted to go to Lucban, Quezon ever since our friends told us of how peaceful, how cool, how relaxing the place was. So leading up to the long weekend, when Londonboy wanted to take a road trip on his newly-bought vehicle, D and I (along with Tony and Calvin) immediately said yes to a two-night stay in the land of longganiza and Zombadings.

Nestled at the foot of Mt. Banahaw, the most mystical mountain in Luzon, Lucban is a quiet town of unhurried minutes. The streets are narrow, given that they were built before those huge airconditioned buses were invented. Like our town Bilar in Bohol, Lucban has a cool climate given the higher altitude; the water that flows through town is cold and fresh from the mountain. Londonboy swears bathing in those waters gives you clearer, glowing skin. The pace and atmosphere is bucolic; however, unlike in Bilar, Lucban seems to stay alive way past dinner time. This is the town that seemingly never sleeps. Fittingly, there’s a 7-11 very near the plaza.

(The lamps in Abcede's.)

A food trip is what I had in mind, and so our first stop was at Abcede’s, where I had breakfast of the famous Lucban longganiza, fried egg and fried rice. We also ordered grilled porkchops for sharing. Dipped in spicy vinegar, Lucban longganiza is the best local sausage for me--crispy, garlicky and not sweet at all. Then we ate at Palaisdaan, the kind of resto wherein the tables are on rafts floating on several ponds full of fish. I especially enjoyed their grilled tilapia in gata, okra and grilled pork.

I had a blast walking around town, taking in the vibe of the place. We looked inside the church. The Catholic Church, despite all the money they get from the faithful, seem to be more inclined with getting the latest Pajeros and SUVs instead of spending for the restoration and upkeep of their historical churches. And they have no idea of maintenance and restoration; instead, when their church is damaged (say, by a storm or by old age), they repair it in a modern, uninspired way. Perhaps it’s just provincial small-mindedness, I guess. As a result, the inside of the church is a disappointment compared to the impressive exterior.

Before we left we ate at Ground Zero, Lucban’s pizza place that serves thick, generously-topped pizzas, calzones and delicious bacon-twists, which is a flat narrow bread twisted with bacon inside.

(Supreme pizza at Ground Zero)

(Their calzone, or as they stated in the menu, "wrapped pizza")

I asked Calvin to give us a bit of a Zombadings tour: he pointed out to us the locations where certain scenes were shot. I particularly wanted to see the street where the final scene (with the end credits) was shot.

Lucban is far enough to be considered a get-away, but near enough to be convenient when one wants an impromptu escape. I want to visit that place again.

P.S. -- I was also able to buy a pair of “Crocs” for only 95 pesos. When Tony found out the price, he exclaimed, “Ang mahal naman!” (He thinks had I bought it in Liliw, Laguna, it would fetch for less.)

The Prude Fabcast, Part Two

2011-11-05T00:13:00.000+08:00

Presenting part two of our rambunctious discussion. Here we get to dissect more Paul aka Iamtofuboy’s dilemma. He apparently had met a couple of guys who became his benchmarks for guys he’d like to be his partners. And now he’s having a hard time meeting guys who can meet his standards.

And after “perineum,” we came up with a new buzz phrase, c/o Migs: “Good job!”

Click on the link and enjoy.

Download this fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Let’s Misbehave” by Eartha Kitt
“Baby Elephant Walk” by Rene Touzet
“Get Myself Together” by Robyn

The Love Yourself Cafe

2011-11-04T22:52:00.002+08:00

We’ve always talked about this; Migs was the one who first came up with the idea. It’s his idea of Serendipity & Synchronicity, but expanded. It’s like a Fabcast, only multiplied and (I suspect) less noisy. It’s kinda like TEDTalks, if TED were fab and had break-out groups.

The Love Yourself Cafe. It’s bringing gay men together in a safe place for casual conversations on topics close to the pink heart. And for the first LYS Cafe, the topic is, “Love and Relationships Among Men.”

No, we don’t expect to be able to have all the answers to everyone’s questions. These talks are meant to be a forum for guys to be able to speak their minds and to hear others as well. We hope that with these exchanges the participants will be able to hear other points of view, and get something out of them--whether it’s a confirmation of their beliefs or a eureka moment that points them to a new direction.

Or at the very least, they have a relaxing, meaningful afternoon.

WHEN: Saturday, 19 November 2011, 6-9pm
WHERE: to be announced when finalized, but most likely somewhere in Makati

Migs, Gibbs and I will be some of the facilitators. Limited slots available, so if you’re interested, email manilagayguy@gmail.com ASAP. Or request an invite via this form: http://tinyurl.com/tlycafe

Let’s talk.

Oh Baby, Baby!

2011-11-04T18:13:00.001+08:00

U2 first burst big into the Manila music scene back in 1983 with “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “New Year’s Day.” Their huge hit “Pride (In The Name Of Love)” cemented their status as a critically-lauded rough-and-jangle rock band that wears its heart out on its sleeve. The latter quality was most evident when they honored the American legends of rock n’ roll, blues, folk and gospel in their album Rattle And Hum. But their sixth studio album received mixed reviews and harsh criticisms.

Thus Achtung Baby was born.

Whenever I talk to U2 fans about their favorite U2 album, most are divided into two camps: the pre-Achtung and the post-Achtung. Most rockers favor the pre-Achtung sound (and to some extent, are happy with the band flexing their rock and roll muscles again with their post-2000 albums).

For me, though, U2 was at their most creative best when they released their seventh studio album, Achtung Baby (1991), and its audial sibling, Zooropa (1993).

From the opening guitar salvo of “Zoo Station,” you immediately hear the band stretching their sound into new territories. This is a band coming out with an album on their own terms. They tap into alternative sounds like electronica and dance to pump new energy into their rock songs. But more than just their music, the band also seemed to have relaxed with their “heart-on-sleeve” attitude. They still had earnest songs, but at times they also sound more flippant and fun.

For me the first ten songs segue effortlessly from one track to the next. From “Zoo Station” to “Ultraviolet (Light My Way),” no track sounds like a filler or a throwaway. Only in the last two track do the band sound like they’ve run out of steam; despite that, “Acrobat” and “Love Is Blindness” still impress on their own.

U2 pushed the envelope even further with their follow-up album Zooropa. More electronically-sounding than its predecessor, the eighth studio album is a more uneven mix. But it still boasts of “Numb” and “Stay (Faraway, So Close!).” Another personal favorite of mine is the last track, “The Wanderer,” which features the sonorous voice of the legendary Johnny Cash. Like in “Numb,” Bono hands the lead vocal chores to someone else and contents himself with supplying falsetto back-up vocals.

Sadly their foray into electronica and dance reached its most experimental (and least appreciated) with Pop. With this album, it’s like the band stretched itself too far, and the strain is apparent.

For me, Achtung Baby remains the zenith of the band’s creative achievements.

So imagine my excitement when I found out that, in celebration of the 20th anniversary of the release of Achtung Baby, they are coming out with this:

It’s the Uber Deluxe Edition, a limited edition “magnetic puzzle tiled box” which will contain:
• Gatefold wallet containing 6 CD audio discs (the album, follow-up Zooropa, remixes and reworkings from Achtung Baby sessions)
• Gatefold wallet containing 4 DVD discs (including “From the Sky Down” documentary, “Zoo TV: Live From Sydney” videos and bonus material).
• Album vinyl on 180gsm black vinyl in wide spine sleeve with 2 x inner bags
• 5×7” clear vinyl in original sleeves housed in a slipcase
• 84 page hardback book
• 16 page 12×12 oversized booklet
• Bono’s trademark “The Fly” sunglasses
• 4 x enamel badges
• Propaganda magazine
• 16 art prints in wallet
• Sticker sheet
• Exclusive numbered lithograth

It’s enough to make a rabid fan curl up and go into a coma.

Of course, when I tweeted the damn thing, I got a reply from Paul: “@mcvie nakakaloka tong deluxe ed na ‘to. tinalo ang deluxe ed ng westlife. hehe. choz.”

So I replied back: “@paulopocket 20 years from now tatalunin ang U2 ni Justin Bieber’s ‘My World 2.0/20 Biebelicious Edition.’”

Meanwhile, I wonder which bank I can rob easily?

Final Destination

2011-11-03T18:03:00.000+08:00

The funny yet weird part was, when I woke up that morning, the last line of Bryan Singer’s breakout movie The Usual Suspects was looped in my mind: “And just like that, he was gone.”

I went to the bathroom for my usual morning routine. In the shower, I poured cold water all over my body to wake me up. When I reached up for the soap dish placed on top of the wall divider, I realized there was no soap at all. Dripping wet, I parted the shower curtain, stepped over the tiled divider (which kept water from the shower from splashing all over the rest of the bathroom floor), and got the soap on the sink. As I stepped back into the shower, I was still repeating the line in my head: “And just like that, he was gone.”

My right foot slipped on the wet tiled floor.

My mind registered my falling down in slow motion. As my right foot slid forward and up, my left foot started to slide forward also. I could feel my body falling backward quickly. And then suddenly Time jumped forward. I felt the bicep of my right arm slammed against the tile, and the right side of the back of my head, just above the neck, smashed against the tiled divider.

And just like that, I found myself on the wet shower floor, naked. My butt was cold because of the wet floor. There was pain on my right arm, and the back of my head throbbed with pain. Shocked. Stunned. But still awake.

And just like that, I remembered the line: “And just like that, he was gone.”

Wrong movie, I thought. Thoughts of Final Destination came to mind.

Without moving, I took stock of my surroundings. I can hear the water from the open faucet filling up the pail. The neighbors were cooking breakfast; I could hear something frying. I could feel my butt and lower back getting wetter and colder.

I carefully stood up, rubbed the back of my head. I could feel a small bump. Hairline fracture. Concussion. These lines immediately came to mind; I’ve been watching too much TV. Still, I knew I had to have myself checked.

I drove myself to St. Luke’s emergency room. The doctor asked me if I blacked out or felt sleepy or threw up. No, no, no. He felt the bump behind my head. I told him I wanted to make sure I didn’t have any concussion. “Hindi naman malaki yung bukol,” he said. “Pantay pa naman yung likod mo.” But still he ordered a series of x-ray tests.

In the x-ray room, I felt like a model in a photo shoot because the technician kept giving me instructions like, “Turn your head to the left,” “Place your arms at the back, and lower your shoulders,” “Chin down, chin down!” and “Hold that pose.” Strike a pose, there’s nothing to it.

After waiting for the results, the doctor told me the good news. They didn’t find any fractures or breaks. He prescribed some painkillers just in case; on the way home, I decided not to buy any of them. Yeah, I am that hardheaded. I was also told to observe myself for the next 24 hours. But I never felt any dizziness or nausea.

And just like that, I guess Death still has no need of me. Yet. (And no, it wasn’t karma, I’m sure. If only the good die young, then I’ll live to be a hundred years old.)

Karma’s A Bitch

2011-11-03T01:14:00.002+08:00

Karma is that cosmic equalizer, the one that rights a wrong. It’s punishment that boomerangs when bad things are done or a reward for the good ones. It’s a great idea, much like God rewarding the good and punishing evil on Judgement Day.

But face it, karma doesn’t really happen; we just choose to think that events are karmic-induced. “Oh my, I’m late for work!” That’s karma for staying up so late. “I fell in love with a man who cannot commit.” That’s karma for playing around. Karma is a convenient reason, an effect to a cause. And so when bad things happen when we were bad, we attribute it to karma. Because it helps put balance and order into the universe. A chaotic, random universe is a frightening concept to behold.

But until there’s scientific, empirical proof that karma exists, then it’s just an outside substitute for a conscience... or of coincidence. It’s as comforting as the thought of Santa Claus and angels, but less juvenile.

(Image taken here.)

A Grave Visit

2011-11-01T12:36:00.002+08:00

We were putting flowers and candles on my dad’s grave when my older brother muttered out loud, “I wonder if the ordinary lapida will be replaced in the future by interactive ones.”

“You know what would be a great invention?” I said.

“What?”

I pointed at the marble tablets on the ground. “Imagine they’re weatherproof touch-screen tablets with sensors,” I began. “When it detects someone approaching, it flashes information on screen while a Siri-like voice says, ‘Welcome! You’re visiting Mr. So-and-So. He was born in Dec. 4, 1944 and died of a heart attack on April 1, 2003. Needless to say, he pulled a cruel April Fool’s joke on everyone.’ Ahahahahaha!”

My younger brother chimed in. “The tablet should also be able to recognize the visitor. So when it does, then a pre-recorded voice of the dead will playback: ‘Thank you, Vanessa, for visiting my grave!’”

“How about all the tablets are wired to the person’s Facebook account?” I wondered. “If he or she has one, of course. So the visitors can leave messages on the deceased’s wall.”

My nephew, who’s a third year college student now, quipped, “Wouldn’t it be so tacky if there was also a Like button?”

We all burst out laughing.

Sa Fezlaboom ng Malars, Na Super Kalurkey!

2011-10-31T01:54:00.001+08:00

I haven’t been to Malate in a while, so on the way there for the 2011 Black Party I was wondering how much it has changed. We were off to meet our friends at the Love Yourself (LYS) booth.

The parking lot where I always park my car was still there. The attendant was still the same guy; he greeted me with a “Long time no see, ser!” after leading me into a parking spot. He didn’t bother to give me a parking ticket anymore; he knows I’ll never leave without paying.

Most of the familiar establishments were still there. However, the crowd felt a little thin, especially on the “straighter” areas of Malate. Just a few minutes past midnight, the volume of the crowd is usually at its peak.

The intersection of Nakpil and Orosa was closed off for the Black Party. I like to think of that particular spot as the intersection between the straight Malate and the gay Malate. That’s where the sexual lines blur, and the only orientation is to have fun.

The party was in full swing. We missed a performance by one of our friends (Von, hahanapin ko ang video sa YouTube, hahaha!) But the LYS hunks were out in full force. People were dancing on a stage erected at the intersection. And folks were having their pictures taken at the LYS backdrop. A little later, with the party in full swing, they switched on two bubble machines positioned on both ends of the booth. So fab, so gay.

Then it occurred to me that despite this intersection’s blurry reputation, most discreet gay guys will still never dare step into Malate, most especially during a big event such as the Black Party. For them, it’s a place and occasion for guys who are mostly or totally out. They would still rather prowl the more discreet places like The Fort, Greenbelt, Resorts World or Tomas Morato. For them being seen in Malate is a red flag of confeeeearmation. Kalurkey!

And I remember what Tony said about creating spaces for gay guys to be comfortable in. Which made me wonder, is there a place where discreet gay guys can mingle with out gay guys? I don’t mean a big event, like Big Fish events, where straight people are also in attendance; rather, a place exclusively for gay guys of different states of self-acceptance to be accepted as they are.

Or maybe I dream too much. Maybe discreet gays will always steer clear of the out-and-about ones. They will never interact with each other in the outside world, because to be seen with the out-and-obvious is another form of confeeeearmation.

Meanwhile, we can only intersect furtively in the dark or online.

Cold Comfort

2011-10-26T16:53:00.002+08:00

My friend Leigh and I had lunch at Masseto, a swanky and chi-chi resto in Salcedo Village. As what happens with most long-time friends who haven’t seen each other for months, such an occasion is marked with good food, much laughter and heartfelt sharing of significant life moments that happened in between meet-ups.

She has been going through some emotional stuff recently, so by the time dessert came along we were deep in conversation, occasionally taking a break by asking for more water or, when the waiter handed us the dessert menu, ordering Salted Caramel Ice Cream and asking that it be split in two, since we were both quite full.

When dessert came, she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. She had already taken off her glasses and, at one point, covered her face with her hands. Still, she bravely continued her narration, while picking up her dessert spoon. I also picked up mine. She was talking while she scooped a bit of ice cream, and placed it in her mouth. I absentmindedly mirrored her movements, all the while concentrating on her story.

We both tasted the ice cream at the same time.

Oh.

My.

God!

Suddenly everything stopped. We both died as the ice cream melted in our mouths.

“Oh my god, Leigh!”

“Ay putang ina. Wow!”

“Shet Leigh, ang saraaaaaaap!”

And right there and then, we forgot all about her situation. We were oohing and ah-ing and marveling at the thick texture, the way the ice cream had already melted on the sides, and how the sugary residue clung to the back of the spoon.

Great food can be that powerful. Even for just a few seconds, all is well in this world.

Chasing Stars

2011-10-25T15:20:00.003+08:00

For the full short story, go to: http://www.strangehorizons.com/2003/20030106/estrellas.shtml

* * * * *

Dean Francis Alfar’s short story “L’Aquilone du Estrellas (The Kite of Stars)” is an amazing tale of unrequited, one-way love. (SPOILER ALERT: Read the full story first if you don’t want to read the spoilers below. Because I’ve quoted in italics all my favorite passages from the story.)

The story is about Maria Isabella du’l Cielo falling for a stargazing young man. When told that he only has eyes for stars, she thought of a plan for him to notice her. She approached master builder Melchor Antevadez with a strange request.

“What I need,” she began, “is a kite large enough to strap me onto. Then I must fly high enough to be among the stars themselves, so that anyone looking at the stars will see me among them, and I must be able to wave at least one hand to that person.”

“What you need,” Melchor Antevadez replied with a smile, “is a balloon. Or someone else to love.”

She ignored him like most love-struck fools do, and insisted on a kite. Finally the master builder gave her a list of materials he needed; to complete the list would take sixty years. She accepted the task without hesitation.

Melchor Antevadez squinted at her. “Is any love worth all this effort? Looking for the impossible?”

Maria Isabella gave the tiniest of smiles. “What makes you think I’m in love?”

Melchor Antevadez raised an eyebrow at her denial.

What makes this story extra melancholic is that Maria Isabella hired a 14-yr. old butcher boy to accompany her in her task. After sixty years they came back with all the materials; the great grandson of the master builder had taken over from his late great grandfather’s shop. When Maria Isabelle was being strapped onto the kite, she tells the butcher boy (who had grown into an old man already), “This is certainly no time for tears,” Maria Isabella reprimanded him gently, as she gestured for him to release the kite.

And she never realized that the butcher boy had loved her all this time.

As she rose, he sighed and reflected on the absurdity of life, the heaviness of loss, the cruelty of hope, the truth about quests, and the relentless nature of a love that knew only one direction.

I wish I had read Dean Francis Alfar’s “L’Aquilone du Estrellas (The Kite of Stars)” when I was younger; it would have saved me a few years lost in stupidity.

Patience And Memory

2011-10-22T10:16:00.003+08:00

“What is patience? It’s 86 missed calls just so that on the 87th, D will wake up and not be late for work.”

Even as I was typing it, I could already anticipate the responses for that Facebook status and tweet: “That’s so sweet!” And true enough, I did get those on Twitter. On Facebook they were able to write longer comments. But what I really just wanted to point out was how surprised I was that I reached 86 missed calls.

* * * * *

D knew that if he relied only on the alarm in his phone, he’d continue sleeping; that’s how deep his sleep usually is. Thus his need for me to be his alarm clock.

One time it took me more than an hour to wake him up. Afterwards I told him how stressful it was for me since I personally felt responsible for waking him up. We eventually agreed that D would supplement my call with an alarm clock; meanwhile, I promised I will not stress myself out if D took long in waking up.

Because D is on the night shift, I’d end up trying to wake him up while I’m driving home from work. I’ve turned this task into something advantageous for me. The drive home is already tedious due to heavy traffic; this task keeps me preoccupied. I’d use an earphone so I can put the phone down (handsfree!); thanks to redial, I found it much easier to call him up with just a press of a button. (Still, hitting an all-time high of 86 missed calls was something I never expected.)

Someone reacted, “I’d have muttered ‘bahala ka sa buhay mo’ after missed call #3 or #4.” I did think that a couple of times in the beginning, especially after going past the 10th call. But I could never get myself to just drop it.

* * * * *

In our opening ice breaker exercise during our planning session last Wednesday in Tagaytay, we were asked to say 5 things about ourselves that is not so well-known in the office. Without thinking much, I blurted out that: [1] I have a 21-yr old boyfriend; [2] who’s my very first, and I, his; [3] that we’re celebrating our 14th monthsary on that very day; [4] and I already texted him but he hasn’t replied yet; [5] because he’s most probably asleep, since he works nights as a call boy. In a call center. LOL. It was the first time I announced it so publicly and to such a big group. They all cheered and clapped. I think I was squirming with inner delight.

Afterwards I proudly texted D about it. Last night he corrected me: “Hon, ano ba?! 16 months na tayo!” Oh no, senior moment.

I may be his alarm clock, but he’ll be our almanac.

Are You Open To It?

2011-10-20T21:52:00.001+08:00

An open relationship is not for everybody. Both parties should be able to handle the fact that their partner hooks up with other guys. Not everyone is capable of separating sex as just a physical act versus sex as a physical expression of the love between two people.

It doesn’t mean that persons who can handle open relationships are better or more mature. It just means they have a different point of view or a different set of values from those who cannot imagine sharing their partners with others. This is also true vice versa.

So to those monogamists who feel sorry for the ones who are in open relationships, don’t. I’m sure those “sluts” are having just as much fun and satisfaction as those “prudes,” albeit in different ways. To eat his own; err, to each his own.

The Prude Fabcast, Part One

2011-10-20T10:21:00.001+08:00

After our “Departures Fabcast” (aka “Pigsa In The Perineum”), we focused on our special guest, Paul aka Iamtofuboy.

I first met him online; I follow him on Twitter and we’re friends on Facebook. He had said before that he has always wanted to meet the Fabcasters and to take part in a Fabcast recording.

So when Migs and Gibbs co-celebrated their birthdays, I invited Paul to the party. There he met CC, Tony and other members of the peanut gallery. During the course of the night, he actually mentioned to me and CC that he was a prude, and he viewed it as some sort of “problem” for him. So we thought, hey, that can be the topic for the next Fabcast.

So now here’s the first of a three-part discussion. Because this was recorded on the same night as the “Departures Fabcast,” don’t be surprised if our running gag for the night continues on the following episodes!

Download this fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Ooh La La” by The Wiseguys
“Like A Virgin (Live)” by Madonna
“Sho Nuff” by Fatboy Slim
“Why’s It So Hard” by Madonna

Kirk Versus Bane

2011-10-17T14:39:00.001+08:00

You have Chris Pine, who was such a hottie as Kirk in the Star Trek reboot. Then you have Tom Hardy, who sizzled and stole all his scenes in Inception. For me, it’s a nosebleed movie! Even Reese Witherspoon, who I find an excellent actress who’s easy on the eyes, is suddenly relegated to the background, along with Chelsea Handler and all those explosions.

If I had my way, Chris and Tom would dump Reese and just get it on with each other.

Lessons In Love

2011-10-17T02:10:00.000+08:00

What I have learned from being single for 44 years.

Romance is over-rated.

Love comes in several forms, like love of country, love of friends or even love of self. But the most popular form, and the one that fuels the entertainment industry, is romantic love. I bet romantic love is responsible for more than half of the output of the entertainment industries.

Romance is very charming and quite addicting; I suspect the same tingling sensations of the nerves and that rush to the brain that one experiences when one is on a drug-induced high are the same ones experienced when one is madly in love. (Romantic) love is insane.

However, romance’s giddy high can never really be sustained for long. Even the body adjusts to a drug’s potency, and soon one’s regular dosage is not enough for a hard-core drug user. But why the persistent popularity of romance? Because it is the most high-inducing state. Because it lends itself well to plots and cliffhangers and happy-ever-afters. Because romance is all about the hopeful beginning. Rarely does romance tackle the nitty-gritty middle; all the more they would want to avoid the emo-inducing end (unless it is but a step towards a new romance).

After the easy, cheesy beginning does the real work of love begin.

Love needs to be redefined.

Often the younger ones would define love as a feeling: “I am in love.” Sometimes they would go philosophical and claim that love is a state of being. Being what? Being in love, which is just another way of describing one’s emotional state.

But here’s something I realized: More than just an emotion, love is a choice. Because feelings, no matter how strong they are at the start, do wane and evolve. What happens after one loses that lovin’ feeling? If love was just an emotional state, many marriages wouldn’t have survived for so long.

I believe that love is a combination of feeling and of choice. The two compliment one another, like the way nature and nurture seem to be inexplicably linked as the causes of homosexuality. Without the initial feeling (“I’m in love!”), there will be no initial interest. But during the times when emotions wane, or the relationship encounters stormy waters, then the choice of loving a person will hopefully keep the relationship going until the storm passes.

Love is outward-directed.

So many times I hear the following: “I’m gonna make you love me.” “I want him, and I will do anything to get and keep him.” “He’s the one for me.” “Why didn’t he choose me? Why did he go for that fugly guy instead of me? I’m so much better for him!”

In all of those sentences the speaker is considering only what he likes. But love isn’t selfish. Love takes the Other into consideration. If there is no reciprocation, why stay and try to force something? There are plenty fish in the sea; move on. (I blame Hollywood for all those romantic comedies wherein persistence wins in the end. If he is just not that into you, don’t waste your time. Life is not a rom-com.)

The irony of love.

For the longest time I had a hard time attracting guys who were also attracted to me. So I wondered what was wrong with me. I tortured myself with questions and self-doubt. Am I not good enough? I’m not that bad-looking, and I am fairly smart; so why am I still single?

I was also told that love should be selfless; love is more about the Other than the self. In fact, I even had this (romantic) notion of “killing my Self,” or putting my needs last, as a way of preparing myself for Love to come into my life. What a silly mistake that was.

The irony of love is that one needs to learn how to love oneself first before one can be capable of loving someone for the long term. Nothing is more unattractive than a guy who is so desperate to be loved; no matter how well one hides it, that desperation always manages to seep out like flop sweat. The moment potential partners sense it, it’s game over.

Years before I met D, I always saw myself as unlucky in love. Either the guy I like doesn’t like me back, or he’s not available. But after I became partnered, suddenly there seemed to be more guys interested in me. I don’t think I was just being oblivious before; I was desperately in search of a partner, remember? So what changed? I lost this “need” to be with someone at all costs. I had become more relaxed, more at peace with myself. And I guess that made me more attractive. (Either that, or there are more daddy- and chub-chasers these days. LOL!)

Love yourself and others will love you too.

The Departures Fabcast

2011-10-16T12:01:00.002+08:00

“Ang galing ng script ng Fabcasts ninyo!”

Someone made a comment about the Fabcasts, saying he was amazed at the script. What script? Our Fabcasts are never scripted; we just have an idea of the topic, and the things we will touch on. But we never write out a script, or even an outline. It’s a good thing that several of us are used to facilitating group discussions (Migs, for example, is excellent at doing that; that’s why he always acts as host); that way, there’s always someone who steers the conversation back on track. But often we do go off-tangent with our side (and snide) comments. And that’s when things get really rowdy.

The following Fabcast is a clear example of that.

It was supposed to be a short Fabcast addressing several departures from the Fabcasters and the peanut gallery, AJ’s death being the most permanent one. But because of one small “matter” that blew out of proportion, this whole episode BOILED down to PRICKING on Londonboy’s unfortunate condition. We couldn’t help it.

(Even I couldn’t help it while producing this particular episode. At the end of this episode, you’ll hear Rihanna singing, “Oh-NA-NA, what’s my name? Oh-NA-NA, what’s my name?”)

It’s another riotous recording by the Fabcasters and the peanut gallery, composed largely of us having fun at Londonboy’s expense, while all the while trying our best to go back to the topic. Warning: If you listen to this using headphones while in a public place, beware of suddenly bursting out laughing.

Click on the link below and enjoy!

Download this fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:

“Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO
“Cheers (Drink To That)” by Rihanna
“Ha Ha Ha” by Eraserheads
“What’s My Name” by Rihanna

Of Apples And Oranges

2011-10-11T22:25:00.001+08:00

Nope, this is not about the late Steve Job’s company, or his death.

In a recent Fabcast recording (to be posted soon!), a topic was raised during our discussion. It was about the de-coupling of sex from relationships. What is this “de-coupling”?

Thanks to our Catholic background, we were taught early on that sex should only happen in the context of one particular kind of relationship--marriage, or in the Church’s strict definition, a heterosexual union between man and woman. Now this is where the coupling of sex and relationship happens: Sex should be done only within a context of a loving (and an officially recognized) relationship. And to further cement this coupling, sex outside of marriage was declared a sin, while the myth of “sex is better when you do it with someone you love” was perpetuated.

So the de-coupling of sex and relationship simply means this: That the value of sex is not inextricably linked to a relationship. Sex can be valid (and even be of value) even when it’s done outside of a loving and officially recognized relationship.

Anyone who’s been a follower of The McVie Show knows that I do not see sex outside of marriage a sin, so that’s all I will say about that. So then let’s go back to the myth of “sex is better when you do it with someone you love.” Myth, you ask? For me, it is. I have had sex with someone I love, someone I like, someone I lust after, and someone I was first ambivalent at the start; yes, I have had sex with a variety of guys for various reasons in different circumstances and occasions. And the following are what I have learned and realized through the years.

The value of sex is affected by the person you’re having sex with. We ascribe more value and meaning to an activity because of the person we’re with during that activity. For example, a mundane morning walk feels extra special because it is done with a loved one. Notice how we describe it: “The walk became extra special because you were with me.”

However, it speaks more about your loved one than on the act itself. The walk remains a walk; it remains the same number of steps, you see the same sights, hear the same birds chirping and feel the same wind blowing had you been walking alone or with, say, a casual friend.

Because sex is an activity done with a partner (let’s leave solo masturbation and orgies or anything above threesomes out of this first), it becomes more difficult to distinguish the value of sex from the relationship you have with your sexual partner. But after having sex with numerous partners, of known but mostly anonymous identities, in bathhouses, saunas, massage parlors and even dark public places, I began to appreciate the value of sex in and of itself. I think the de-coupling happened naturally; after all, I never had a chance to have sex with someone I love, just always with a hook-up for the night.

And then I met D. After experiencing sex with someone I love, I can safely say that, yes, there is a difference, and the difference is D.

Which brings me to my second learning. Comparing sex with different people, given the different levels of relationships with them, is unfair; it’s apples versus oranges.

So in the end you go back to asking yourself: What is my motivation for having sex? How do I look at sex, and what value do I attach to it? If you believe that sex should happen only in the context of a monogamous relationship, then good for you. But don’t be surprised when it seems that every Tom around you seems to be getting it on with the Dicks and Harrys of this world.

I personally believe that sex can be enjoyed in and of itself, especially if it’s between two consenting mature adults. Let’s face it, Nature (or God, if you want to be religious about it) made sex so enjoyable; in fact, in certain cultures the orgasm is akin to reaching Nirvana.

But however you choose to view sex, let’s respect each other’s choices. After all, it’s apples and oranges; some prefer apples, others oranges. And then there are those who’d rather have fruit salad.

Hey, it’s never too late to change one’s view of things.

They're Amazing, Just The Way They Are

2011-10-07T21:23:00.000+08:00

"Charotelang DPWH, umappear ka, vhaklur! Magpa-feel, magpa-sense ditey sa Guadalupey.

Witiz shokoley ang undangchi ditey, sa fezlaboom ni Mars na super kalurkey!"

The Sexworkers Fabcast, Part Three

2011-10-07T17:29:00.000+08:00

“You dress me up, I’m your puppet.
You buy me things, I love it.
You bring me food, I need it.
You give me love, I feed it.”

Here’s the third and final part of the rambunctious and opinion-ladened Fabcast.

Here we introduce Boy Toy. He was silently listening to the discussion during the first part, but then he started asking questions by the second part. On the third part he takes center stage, asking questions and giving his opinion, considering that he himself personally has friends who are, in his words, “high-class prostitutes.”

Here we also touch on the different values of people and the different reasons why someone will or will not engage the services of a sex worker. We also take a look at the way the sex industry has evolved through time; the older generation reminisce on pre-digital hook-ups. Towards the end the members of the peanut gallery weigh in their two-cents worth on the whole discussion.

It’s interesting how people reveal their values and their way of thinking when the topic of discussion is such a divisive and controversial one.

Click below, enjoy listening and I hope you get something out of this discussion.

“But look at my hopes, look at my dreams
The currency we spend.
I love you, you pay my rent.”

Download this fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
"Rent" by the Pet Shop Boys
"Rent (live)" by the Pet Shop Boys

The Day The Apple Died

2011-10-07T16:20:00.002+08:00

First came the shock, along with the reposting of the news. Then the condolences and the accolades came. And because Steve Jobs is a very quotable guy, the quotes followed. Soon to pop up are the jokes and the spoofs (in fact, I have already seen one cartoon; it’s cute, actually).

But one message that was passed on yesterday caught my eye: “Steve Jobs was born out of wedlock, put up for adoption at birth, dropped out of college, then changed the world. What’s your excuse?”

Something about it didn’t sit well with me. Besides, not everyone who changes the world changes it for the better. So in a huff I riffed off that message and came up with: “Hitler didn’t advance beyond secondary education, failed to enter art school, was tried and sentenced to prison, but rose to power then changed the world. Do we excuse him?”

Then I promptly forgot all about it.

The next day someone commented: “you mean, excuse the genocide? how you could possibly even ask this question.”

Toink. Memo to me: Not everyone who views my Facebook has a wall similar to mine.

Wasak (Like My Eyeglasses)

2011-10-03T01:18:00.000+08:00

When I opened my eyes I saw the floor on my right. I moved my head up and to the left and saw a bit of sunlight. I turned to glance at my right arm, which I had used as a pillow. There were small ants crawling on the bed, some climbing onto my arm. I crushed a couple with my thumb.

I remember Jade, Tony and Calvin helping me up to the second floor of Playroom and plopping me down on the bed. Tony even took my shoes and socks off. Prior to that I heard Calvin say that he found the missing lens of my eyeglasses (which fell when I was staggering out into the courtyard outside Playroom) and had put it back in place. Too bad the lens was scratched and the frame banged up pretty bad; I need to get a new pair.

Minutes before, the three were looking over me as I hugged the toilet bowl; I had thrown up in the courtyard, so they decided to bring me to a more appropriate place to upchuck my dinner, two bottles of Tanduay Ice and all those soju shots (I lost count) I pumped into my system earlier that evening.

We were partying in Playroom Friday evening because it was the despedida of Dean, who was flying to Japan a week from now for work. Dean wanted the party to be like the bacchanalian Fabcaster parties of old--lots of soju and lots of friendly fun among the guests. But this party had videoke and three shirtless, muscular servers going around serving shots of soju to the guests. Who could resist them? I never really was a videoke person; I am not that good in carrying a tune, and my voice isn’t exactly of singing quality. And yet there I was singing this old 70s song, “Bluer Than Blue.” (I had no idea who added that on the playlist, but it seemed I was the only one who knew that song. But this was before Corporate Closet arrived, hahaha.)

And that is why I found myself at 8:30 Saturday morning outside of Playroom dazed, sluggish and out of sorts. My head felt heavy, my t-shirt stank of dried sweat and I still had to drive myself home.

Good thing traffic wasn’t too heavy, and the weather was a bit sunny.

When I got home I immediately hit the shower. While soaping myself, I discovered that someone drew an erect penis on my right bicep. Cute.

I swear I’ll never get that drunk again.

(Yeah, I always say that.)

My Top 25 In Sept. 2011

2011-09-30T19:32:00.000+08:00

Sometimes I surprise even myself. (Well, the Johari Window does have a pane for that.)

This afternoon I casually glanced at my iTunes’ “Top 25 Most Played” and I was surprised at the top 10 results:

Ever since I acquired this particular laptop (and started playing music using its iTunes) early this year, I’ve played J-Lo’s “On The Floor” the most number of times?! Jeez, I liked that tune, but not that much. And here is where the flaw of that listing lies; I remember one day I left my desk with my iTunes playing “On The Floor” on a loop. I attended what I thought was going to be a short meeting; instead, it turned into a mega-meeting that lasted for hours. And after that I was dragged into another meeting. So when I returned to my desk it was already very dark outside, and J-Lo was still “On The Floor” dancing the night away.

Nicki was also a surprise, though I’m sure I listened to her 104 times. A surprise because it didn’t feel like 104 times. Her “boom, badoom, boom” boomed so smoothly, it was a delight to listen to again and again.

Solo female acts dominate my top 25. Of my top ten, 8 are occupied by them (some with featured guest stars). Of all the female solo acts, Robyn has the most number of songs in my top 25, with 5 of her songs from her excellent Body Talk album in my list. The only other act to have more than one song in my top 25 is Rihanna, with two of her hits making the list.

Only two bands entered my top 10, one from the 80s (Tears For Fears) and one from 2011 (Foster The People). There are three other multiple-member acts in my top 25: Fleetwood Mac (at #14 with “Storms”), Maroon 5 (at #22 with “Moves Like Jagger”) and the power-bonded mega-boy band NKOTBSB (at #23 with “Don’t Turn Out The Lights”).

And I only have two male solo acts in my top 25, Enrique Iglesias (at #12 with “Escape”) and Brandon Flowers (at #21 with “Crossfire”).

Most of the songs I listened to are fairly current hits. The oldest song is Fleetwood Mac’s “Storms,” which was released in 1979. The next oldest is Tears For Fears’ “Suffer The Children” which was in their 1983 album The Hurting. Madonna’s “Thief Of Hearts” in 1992 rounds up the pre-2000 songs.

So how does your top 25 list look?

Play Ball

2011-09-28T20:16:00.001+08:00

Sex is like playing tennis.

You need a partner to play tennis. You play with balls. You get all sweaty and worked out. And in the end you either enjoyed it or you’re disappointed by your performance.

One can choose to put meaning to sex or not. And when you do (or not), it changes the complexion of the sex act. Just like in tennis. Maybe you’re training to be the next Rafael Nadal, and you treat every game as an important training session; if you sucked at a game, you’d be very disappointed. But if you’re just playing for fun with friends, then win or lose it wouldn’t matter so much, so long as you had fun.

You might call out “Love!” more than once during tennis, but if you keep your head on, you know better than to take it seriously. Unless you are taking the game very seriously, in which case every call out will mean more.

Yes, sex with feelings/meaning/love feels wonderful, but so is playful, recreational sex between two consenting and aware adults. Besides, it’s apples and oranges; not everyone will attach the same intensity and the same meaning to sex.

So when people say, “I’d rather have sex with meaning or not have sex at all,” I want to ask them, “Have you ever played a friendly game of tennis?”

The Sex Workers Fabcast, Part Two

2011-09-26T21:04:00.000+08:00

And now, here is part two! Here you'll hear more.

[1] Find out more about Victor (he with the very soft voice).
[2] Know Kenneth aka Boy Shiatsu's story, his values and his world view.
[3] Both of them open up about having relationships given their line of work.
[4] Discover if sex workers do get to have relationships (sexual or romantic) with other sex workers.
[5] And listen to Victor talk about a downside to that line of work--the exposure to drugs.

In this part we also go back to our previous Fabcast wherein we discussed Boy Shiatsu's question, "Will you have a relationship with a sex worker?" Back then Migs was very insistent that he will not consider a relationship with a sex worker.

And Migs drops a bomb regarding a previous client of Boy Shiatsu.

Intrigued? Then click and listen! (Again, please forgive how at times the voices are so soft. This Fabcast is best heard using headphones or earphones.)

Download this fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
"Sexy And I Know It" by LMFAO
"Heto Na Naman" by the San Miguel Master Chorale and Philharmonic Orchestra
"Would You...?" by Touch & Go
"Miss Clare Remembers" by Enya
"The Drugs Don't Work" by The Verve

La Drag Diva!

2011-09-26T15:40:00.001+08:00

So there is life after podcasting, hahaha!

After The Dan & Rye Show ended, Rye went the RuPaul route, donned wigs, falsies and dresses, and transformed into La Chiquitta. Now Hong Kong’s number one drag diva has a single and a video out! Check out “Tranny In The House!” (I so looove the beat.)

Cosmo Goes Cosmic

2011-09-26T15:26:00.003+08:00

“Ang imba ng mga Scorpio!” D exclaimed out of the blue.

“What?” I glanced at him before turing my attention back to the road in front of me. He was leafing through a copy of the Cosmo 69 Bachelors.

“There’s a lot of water signs in this year’s bachelors list,” he said after a while. “I guess there really must be something about water signs.”

D and I share a skeptical interest in astrological signs. When I was younger I really took to it, thinking that perhaps the planetary pull have an effect on us at the time we were born. Of course as I read more and more about astrology, the more I became skeptical towards it. Sure, it’s not as simple as knowing your sun, or primary, sign. Take a sign, say Leo, then start going through all the Leos you know. You’d see how the description falls short for most of the Leos you know. So now it’s just something that is interesting to know but too incredulous to totally believe in.

Still, it makes for an interesting conversation.

“Really?” I asked. “What are the water signs again?”

“Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces,” D replied.

“Sige nga. Let’s count the number of water signs,” I said. “Or better yet, let’s tally all the signs of this year’s Cosmo bachelors batch.”

So we stopped over at a fastfood place, and on an Excel spreadsheet we tallied the sun signs of the 69 cosmo bachelors (we excluded the centerfolds), and the following below are the results.

* * * * *

The Top Signs In The 2011 Cosmo Bachelors’ List:

Scorpio (10)
Libra (8)
Aries (7)
Taurus (6)
Virgo (6)
Sagittarius (6)
Cancer (5)
Leo (5)
Capricorn (5)
Gemini (4)
Pisces (4)
Aquarius (3)

Top Elements In The 2011 Cosmo Bachelors’ List:

Water signs (total = 19)
Cancer (5)
Scorpio (10)
Pisces (4)

Fire signs (total = 18)
Aries (7)
Leo (5)
Sagittarius (6)

Earth signs (total = 17)
Taurus (6)
Virgo (6)
Capricorn (5)

Air signs (total = 15)
Gemini (4)
Libra (8)
Aquarius (3)

* * * * *

“It’s interesting that Libra only came in second,” I said. “Libra is known as the sign of handsome guys and beautiful girls.”

“But Scorpios have that sensual something,” D said. “Also, they are often focused on themselves, so maybe that’s why there are more Scorpio bachelors.”

“Or they just don’t mind being called a bachelor,” I added. “It seems sad that there are only four Pisceans.” D and I are both March-born.

“Maybe because Pisces don’t stay bachelors for long,” D laughed. I smiled back, and decided not to point out my 44-year wait in Singlehoodville.

The Sexworkers Fabcast, Part 1

2011-09-23T11:18:00.001+08:00

(The following Fabcast was recorded the weekend before AJ passed away.)

Sex workers. For many of us, we look down on guys who get paid for sex. Why do sex work when one can earn money in a decent job?

Remember the Fabcast when we recorded phone-in questions? Boy Shiatsu was first introduced there, and it was his question that sparked a spirited discussion amongst us. Well, 25-yr old Kenneth, aka Boy Shiatsu, is back for this Fabcast.

And this time he’s joined by Victor, a 21-year old from Olongapo who was introduced to the sex trade when he came to Manila.

A former sex worker and a current one; what stories will they tell? Listen.

(Oh, and sorry but you really have to listen in close, because Victor is so soft-spoken. I have tried all that is electronically possible with the available software I have to boost his voice, but it could only go so far. So this Fabcast is best heard using earphones or headphones.)

Download this fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Left To My Own Devices” by the Pet Shop Boys
“The Sodom And Gomorrah Show” by the Pet Shop Boys
“Suffer The Children” by Tears For Fears

What If?

2011-09-21T18:05:00.002+08:00

Scenario: You find out that this person is HIV positive. Also, you find out that this person is bent on infecting others; he feels his life has already ended, so might as well drag others down with him in the process. You’ve tried to reason with him, but he refuses to listen to reason.

What would you do? What can you do?

I asked those questions because it is not the first time that I’ve heard of stories, whispered mostly, of HIV-positive people who willfully do not disclose their status and engage in unsafe sex with different partners. Why they do it, one can only guess. Some say it’s a form of revenge. Others posit that they are on a self-destruct mission and are bent on bringing people down with them. Whatever their reasons are, the only thing you’re sure of is that they are committed to spreading the virus via unprotected sex.

I know that it is against the law to disclose someone else’s HIV-positive status without that person’s consent. So if you report him to the police, can you be sued even if your intention is to stop them from spreading the virus?

And then there’s the question of the “victims” of this guy. If they agreed to engage in unsafe sex, aren’t they also partially responsible for not protecting themselves? Even if they were told an outright lie (“I’m safe, I’m HIV-negative”), they should know better than to just accept at face-value a claim made by someone whom they’ve met for the first time.

So, what would you do? What can you do?

Que Horror!

2011-09-19T12:11:00.000+08:00

So there’s this new movie from Regal Films entitled Aswang starring Paulo Avelino and Lovi Poe.

But take a look at one of the co-stars, Albie Casiño.

Doesn’t he resemble Rocco Nacino (below) in the screenshot from the trailer (above)?

It’s Ang Sayaw Ng Dalawang Kaliwang Aswang!

Planet D’uh!

2011-09-17T17:03:00.000+08:00

I decided to check out my oh-so-neglected Planet Romeo account. I was just curious how things were on that planet.

So I logged in and saw two messages. I clicked open the first one. It was really just a “Hi!” from someone. Hmmm looks decent, although the colored hair in one of his photos turned me off. Then I read his profile: dating pagirl ako but now im pround 2 be bisexual tnx

Toink!

I clicked him away.Then I checked out the other message. Here’s what greeted me:

I actually managed to type the following: “I don’t think you’re capable of giving yourself my number, but feel free to try!” But before I could click “send,” I changed my mind and deleted it.

I left both messages unanswered.

Body Image

2011-09-16T17:54:00.000+08:00

I was struck by Corporate Closet’s latest blog entry (click on the link here) on his battle against age. I loved the honesty of his post, and in keeping with that honesty, I will now make a clarification regarding what he wrote about me.

He wrote, “i contrast myself with fellowfab & age-range mcvie who recently posted something about age and accepting himself and his body as it is. there is some resignation, perhaps, in the tone. but it is really more of acceptance and even joy in the realization.”

In my particular case, accepting my age and body started primarily with resignation, AHAHAHA! I think this is really needed, that rather rude wake-up call. It’s easier to wake up to reality if you are bitten by it.

Acceptance and, one hopes, joy will follow. Acceptance can take a long time to come, especially if one isn’t ready to embrace the facts seen in front of the mirror. Never underestimate the power of denial, LOL.

Joy happens last. In my case, that joy is still quite elusive; what I have is more like a quick pat on the back rather than a full-blown embrace. I suspect there are people who accept things but never reach that joyful state. I really don’t get it why it takes quite a while for some people (including yours truly) to be contented with the joys they have; call it the joyful mystery.

This change in attitude didn’t happen overnight, and there still are times when I’d slip back into my former attitude of wanting a perfect magazine-cover-ready body. There are days when I am envious of CC and his discipline. There are days when it’s easier for me to gloss over my reflection in the mirror. Then there are days when focusing on my one-pack abdominal doesn’t bother me at all; it’s like the “as is where is” acting style as per Eugene Domingo.

But I guess CC’s point was more the “joy in the realization,” and with that, he is right. I may not always be happy with what I see in front of the mirror, but I choose not to let my body image, whether it’s to impress others or to satisfy myself, determine my over-all contentment.

And with that, I am happy.

Goodbye, AJ

2011-09-14T20:58:00.002+08:00

As requested by Migs for the memorial held last night (Sept. 13), I produced a short audio tribute to AJ, culled from selected soundbites from various Fabcasts. As a final farewell to our dear friend and fellow Fabcaster, here is the same tribute, now with photos of AJ taken from his Facebook.

Final Note

2011-09-14T18:53:00.001+08:00

Monday last week AJ was rushed back into ICU. Tuesday evening we got that fateful message: Come to the hospital to see him one last time. We agreed to go at 5pm the following day.

Wednesday afternoon found Migs, Gibbs, Tony and I at the Intensive Management Unit of Medical Center Manila. As per hospital policy, we could visit AJ one at a time. His mom accompanied us one by one. We were told that AJ couldn’t talk because of the respirator, and because he was heavily sedated, he would just drift in and out of sleep.

The first to go in was Gibbs. While they were inside, he and Mommy had a fright when the machine hooked up to AJ suddenly sounded an alarm. The nurse immediately assured them that it was a regular alarm that was set to go off at intervals.

Tony was the next to visit. His was very uneventful; AJ was asleep the whole time.

It was Migs’ turn. We noted that he took a longer time inside than usual. When he stepped out, I immediately went inside.

AJ was in the furthest room. His breathing was labored. I could see the struggle he was putting up. His will power is absolutely amazing; I have never seen anyone cling on to life as tenaciously as he did. I’ve seen him drag himself away from the jaws of death twice, but perhaps, after almost a year of being in and out of the hospital, it was time for him to finally rest and be at peace.

Then his eyes opened. He lifted his left hand, while his right hand moved as if gesturing that he wanted to write something.

“Gusto mong magsulat?” Mommy asked him.

But apparently he just wanted to take the monitor clip on his left hand finger off. We told him to stop struggling. “Just rest and sleep, AJ,” I whispered to him. His eyes closed once more. And that was the last time I saw him alive.

When I stepped out of the room, the others were crowded around Migs. He was holding a one-fourth sheet of paper. Apparently when he was inside, AJ woke up and gestured for paper and pencil.

He had written a note to Migs. But perhaps because of the sedatives plus his weakened state, we could not understand what AJ, with whatever was left of his waning strength, had hastily written down.

AJ suffered a cardiac arrest Thursday evening; earlier, the Fabcasters had held a benefit dinner to help raise funds to defray the mounting hospital expenses. We finished the dinner at 11pm, relieved that we didn’t hear word from the family. It was around 11:30pm that AJ had the cardiac arrest. AJ managed to make it past midnight. He died a day away from his 29th birthday.

Friends and relatives have taken a look at the note, trying to decipher AJ’s last message. Five days after he died, he was buried this afternoon at a cemetery in Pasig.

Until now we still have no idea what his note meant.

We Fabcasters already have a running joke. In our next Fabcast, we will conduct a seance to contact AJ. So don’t be surprised if in our next recording, you would hear the Fabcasters and the peanut gallery chant: “Charoterang isprikitik, umappear ka vahkler. Magpa-feel, magpasense, ditey sa mga Fabcaster. Witiz intindey ng udangchi ditey ang notrabelles mo, marz, na super kalerkey!”

Be even more surprised if you hear AJ’s voice say, “Hellooow!” after that chant, and the rest of us screaming and running away.

Award.

Goodbye

2011-09-09T02:37:00.001+08:00

Ariel James Matela (September 10, 1982 - September 8, 2011)

He was one of the pioneering Filipino bloggers, a fellow Fabcaster and a dear friend. After a long and hard battle, AJ now can finally find rest and peace. He died on Mama Mary’s birthday, and two days before he was to turn 29.

The sky tonight shines a little brighter with his star adding glitter to the heavens. AJ, you’re off to your next and greatest adventure. Bon voyage, teh.

* * * * *

A call for help, from AJ's older sister Jinggay:

The prospect of AJ joining our creator is a happy occasion no matter how painful it would be for the family.
One obstacle that the family needs to hurdle now are the hospital bills. The family of AJ implores the help of 1,000 volunteers to donate Php500.00 each to help defray the cost of hospitalization expenses. We hope you can be one of them.
You may contact our mom thru her mobile 0908 570 1555/0927 984 8142 or deposit it at BPI (Kidapawan) SA#8669-0851-93 of Eric John Matela.
Thanks so much.
Jinggay

Dear readers and fans of the Fabcasters, I hope you find it in your hearts to help out AJ's family in their time of need.

(Photo by Teresa Barrozo)

Noises

2011-09-06T15:56:00.002+08:00

I rent a room in this two-storey house in QC. It’s a fairly old house, built sometime in either the late 50s or early 60s. It’s the kind of old house that has a lot of knick-knacks and bric-a-brac on both floors. In the room I’m renting alone are several antique religious figures as well as one huge Christ-on-the-cross hanging on the wall. There are only two of us humans in the house, my housemate (and landlord) and I; we occupy two of the three bedrooms upstairs. In the living room are our non-human companions, my landlord’s Shih Tzu named Princess plus her 4 pups (only a few weeks old, the pups stay in a pen near the foot of the wooden stairs).

One night last week I found myself alone in the house with Princess and her puppies. My landlord was confined to the hospital the day before to undergo an appendectomy; he was to stay there for at least 3 more days.

It was already 1:30 in the morning, and I was about to fall asleep when I heard footfalls going up the stairs. Now, a couple of weeks ago we discovered that Princess had figured out how to climb up and down the stairs; we were particularly miffed about this, since she’s not house-trained at the second floor, and one time she left several of her “land mines” on the second floor receiving area. But the footsteps sounded too heavy for a 10-lbs dog; still, I decided I was too sleepy to think about it--or get scared by it.

Then I heard a light thump on my door. It’s a kind of thump that a dog can make when it plops itself down beside the door and hits it. But by that time I had switched off the light and had one foot in dreamland. I didn’t want to get up, open the door and find Princess--or something else--outside my door. So I pushed any thoughts aside and promptly fell asleep.

I woke up around 8 o’clock the next morning because I heard a door open and footsteps going to the bathroom. I lay rigid on the bed, listening intently. I heard the bathroom door close. That’s it, I said to myself, it can’t be the dog. So those noises are either made by ghosts or worse--burglars, perhaps? But what behaved burglars they are! So I texted my landlord: “Is anybody staying in the vacant room?” I was thinking maybe he asked a relative of his to take over while he was in the hospital.

Then I heard them once more, footsteps coming closer, then a door closing.

My cellphone beeped. My landlord’s text message said: “Ay sorry hindi kita nasabihan. May bagong housemates tayo, mag-asawa. Bihira lang sila diyan kasi, mga twice a week lang, because of work.”

True enough, after a few minutes I heard two voices, one female and one male. They were talking as they left their room and walked down the stairs. A few seconds later I heard our gate open and close.

Whew.

So I got myself ready to go to work. When I was about to leave the front door, the curtain on the window beside the door suddenly fell. I went to check it. Apparently the wooden rod holding up the curtain was slightly too short; I guess it was just waiting to fall. I got a wooden stool, stepped on it and proceeded to try and hang the curtain rod when all of a sudden, the ceiling fan which was just in my line of vision suddenly twirled into action.

I froze, curtain rod held above my head. I first looked at the fan then at its switch located on the wall just in front of me. It was switched “on.” No one could have switched it on without me seeing him. I looked back up at the ceiling fan, then back at the switch, then to Princess at the foot of the wooden stool. She was just looking up at me the whole time.

In my mind I told myself, dogs should sense if there’s something else in the room. She’s not looking in the direction of either the fan or the fan switch. She’s not acting weird at all.

Still, I decided I’d put up the curtains some other time. I picked up my bag and laptop and left for the office.

2 Events Versus HIV On 9/11

2011-09-05T14:06:00.001+08:00

[A] Free HIV Test on 9/11 by MGG

Friends, this is Migs, the Manila Gay Guy.

It’s my birthday on September 11. I thought that it’ll be a more meaningful birthday for me if I can help more people manage their health and life -- so may I ask you a favor?

Go for your HIV test. Or if you’re done, get a friend to go for his test. Spread the word that there is an HIV testing event we’re organizing on Sunday, 9/11. It’s free, convenient, and confidential. Remember that when one knows of his HIV status early, he can manage his health more appropriately. It need not be a death sentence. In fact, it can be a start to a happier life!

Details here: http://wp.me/pozaj-3aJ

Migs

[B] Groupon Philippines Lends Online Platform To Support HIV Awareness

Inaugural G-Team "Deal" signed with The Love Yourself Project (www.loveyourself.ph) and Frenzy condoms

MANILA -- Groupon Philippines (www.groupon.ph) will feature an unprecedented online deal on September 11, 2011 to support The Love Yourself Project, which aims to prevent the spread of HIV/AIDS in the Philippines through education and counseling.

The deal, which will go live on 9/11, will raise the ‘9-1-1’ emergency signal on the staggering rise of HIV cases in the Philippines. According to a July report from the Department of Health -National Epidemiology Center, the Philippines is in the brink of an epidemic-level spread of HIV. July 2011 registered 204 newly-diagnosed HIV cases, the highest logged in a single month, and a 56% increase compared to the same period last year. The Philippines is 1 of only 7 countries worldwide where HIV cases are increasing.

The deal will allow anyone with internet access to donate to the cause either through a P100 cash donation, a P400 donation which comes with a free Love Yourself t-shirt, and a P1000 donation that entitles Groupon holders to the Love Yourself photoshoot on September 24, complete with a pre-shoot styling session and a free Love Yourself t-shirt. The deal will run from September 11 and end on September 13.

Frenzy condoms also agreed to match each Groupon sold with an in-kind donation of condoms, which will be distributed during The Love Yourself Project’s various outreach, testing and counseling sessions.

The deal is Groupon’s inaugural G-Team deal outside North America. Groupon was born out of collective action and fundraising platform The Point in 2008, and later channeled its philanthropic roots into the launch of G-Team. While Groupon enables shoppers to discover the best their city has to offer, G-Team further connects consumers to their cities by spotlighting local organizations. Facilitating support through the collective action-by-tipping point model that Groupon pioneered, G-Team campaigns are designed around an organization’s specific need, like fundraising to create school supply kits, but only ‘go live’ if a certain number of people agree to participate. There is no cost for mission-driven organizations to participate in G-Team and all proceeds directly benefit the featured cause. This innovative approach to fundraising has raised more than PhP12M for various organizations.

"We are excited to employ the ‘people power’ model of Groupon’s G-Team to raise awareness of HIV/AIDS in the Philippines," said Ronivin Garcia Pagtakhan, CEO/President of The Love Yourself Project. "We are honored to be the first organization featured by The G-Team in the Philippines."

To avail of this deal, just log on to www.groupon.ph at 12 noon on September 11, 20011, and follow the instructions. While there is no cap for the P100 donation, quantities are limited for the t-shirts and photoshoot sessions.

About Groupon

Groupon, launched in November 2008 in Chicago, features a daily deal on the best stuff to do, eat, see and buy in 45 countries around the world. Groupon uses collective buying power to offer huge discounts and provide a win-win for business and consumers, delivering more than 1,000 daily deals globally. To subscribe for the best deals in your city, visit www.groupon.ph.

About The Love Yourself Project

The Love Yourself Project aims to prevent the spread of HIV/AIDS among the youth and key affected population in the Philippines, primarily through education and counseling. It is the first project by the VINN Advocacy group, which was founded by Twitter Shorty Awards Nurse of The Year Awardee Ronivin (Vinn) Garcia Pagtakhan. The Love Yourself Project is supported by popular TV personality Boy Abunda (United Nations Population Fund spokesperson), Rep. Rissa Hontiveros (Akbayan), and actors Paulo Avelino and Rocco Nacino.

Contacts:

Groupon Philippines
Richmond Ezer Escolar, Chief Marketing Officer
0917-5698463; richmond@groupon.ph

The Love Yourself Project
Chris Lagman, External Affairs Officer
chris@loveyourself.ph

The MGG Anniversary ATBP Fabcast

2011-09-05T00:12:00.000+08:00

We trooped to Los Baños for an early despedida for someone who was leaving the country to work in Malaysia truly Asia. Little did I know that we’d end up recording a Fabcast, to celebrate the birthday of Joms, one of our more regular peanut gallery member, as well as to celebrate the 5th anniversary of Migs’ blog, MGG.

We started recording late at night, after we went night swimming. For some reason, the waters of Los Baños seemed to have an effect on Gibbs. Listen in and learn why Gibbs’ use of GPRS made him think that Valenzuela is Antipolo.

Download this fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Hello There” by The Freshmen
“Wipeout” by The Surfaris
“The Beginning of The Partnership,” “Greenwich,” “The Missing Scene,” “A New World,” “The Arrival of Wessex,” “Love and The Rehearsal,” “The Play and The Marriage,” “The Play, Part 1,” “The Play, Part 2,” and “The End” by Stephen Warbeck, from the soundtrack of the movie Shakespeare In Love

The Ugly Face of Facebook

2011-08-30T15:40:00.005+08:00

I was never a war-freak. We were raised by our parents to avoid fighting at all costs; in fact, if one of us picked a fight, our parents would punish both the one who started it and the one who chose to fight back. Instead, we were always thought to reason and argue, and to not let it degenerate into physical fistfights.

In high school we were taught critical thinking, and to fine-tune that we were taught the rules of debate. We were taught to stick to the point. We were given this long list of fallacious arguments, which we sort of breezed through. Yet a lot of it stuck with us, because we were a class that loved to think for ourselves (a lot of our high school teachers from the different years attested to that).

Ad Hominem (argument to the man) is attacking the person instead of attacking his argument, for example: “How can you argue for vegetarianism when you wear leather shoes?” Argument By Pigheadedness, or refusing to accept something after everyone else thinks it is well enough proved. Non Sequitur, or an argument that just does not follow. There were so many on that list that our teacher had to breeze through a lot of them.

Even back then, I realized just how easy it is to make false arguments and make them sound reasonable. Conversely, I also realized how difficult it is to debate if not done dispassionately. Emotions, especially anger, definitely do cloud our judgement.

Thanks to the James Sorianos, Christopher Laos and Mideo Cruzes of this world, I realized just how many cyber bullies with false arguments abound. I also found out how some people are just plain cruel, even if they have a point. It is one thing to bash someone in the privacy of an offline conversation, it is another thing to broadcast it to the world. Facebook has allowed people to broadcast their unedited selves. It can get really ugly when publicized.

Behind those picture-perfect profile pics on Facebook, some people’s real faces can be quite horrible.

Angst

2011-08-25T23:51:00.000+08:00

Around a week ago D told me he downloaded the recording of the musical “Spring Awakening.” He wanted me to check out a song from the musical on YouTube, which I did. I wasn’t particularly impressed or moved, even if it featured a pre-Glee Lea Michele. A few days later D told me he had listened to the whole album, and what struck him was how he found the whole musical tedious after a while. When I asked why, he said that the songs were all about teenage angsts.

I was thinking about what he said on the way home from the gym today, and a question just popped out of nowhere. What angsts do I have? And for a moment I couldn’t think of one. If there is one thing that bothers me constantly these days, it’s my weight and waistline. But it’s not an angst of mine.

Let’s define angst first. Online it is defined as:

1. A feeling of deep anxiety or dread, typically an unfocused one about the human condition or the state of the world in general.
2. A feeling of persistent worry about something trivial.

Frankly I don’t really worry too deeply about the world we live in and life in general. I see the sorry state we live in and I shrug it off by telling myself, “That’s that, deal with it.” I don’t think I’m being cynical nor do I trivialize the human condition. I don’t feel hopeless about things; I just acknowledge that change may take long in coming, and the change may not necessarily be the one we want.

Urban Dictionary.com has a more interesting take on angst versus anxiety:

Angst, often confused with anxiety, is a transcendent emotion in that it combines the unbearable anguish of life with the hopes of overcoming this seemingly impossible situation. Without the important element of hope, then the emotion is anxiety, not angst. Angst denotes the constant struggle one has with the burdens of life that weighs on the dispossessed and not knowing when the salvation will appear. For example: An airplane crashes into the side of a remote snow-covered mountain; those passengers that worry about their lives without hopes of survival only face anxiety. In contrast, those passengers who worry about their lives with hopes of survival but do not know when the rescue party will arrive face angst.

Still, my weight issue doesn’t exactly qualify as angst because personally I don’t worry too much about it.

I guess my attitude can be summed up by the signature phrase of Alfred E. Newman, Mad Magazine’s mascot: “What, me worry?” Angst is a product of worrying, and startlingly, I have actually learned how to master worrying, instead of the other way around.

How? What helped me a lot is the purported The Serenity Prayer, which goes like this:

God, grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.

(For the complete and unabridged version by Reinhold Niebuhr [1892-1971], click on this link.)

Aside from learning how to recognize the forest for the trees, I also realized that the act of worrying is, in and of itself, actually useless when it goes beyond 30-seconds. Okay, I’ll be generous and make it one minute, in case you like a bit of wallowing. Really, it’s the wallowing in worry that’s unnecessary and useless; you just worry but you don’t get anything done. Instead of worrying, change your mindset and view your situation as a problem-solution opportunity. They say the Chinese word for crisis is the same as opportunity, so think of your problem (or crisis) as an opportunity instead.

It sounds simple, but it actually takes practice to eventually get the hang of it. And eventually, you slowly learn the art of detachment. But that’s for much later.

The downside? Well, angst is a powerful fuel for writing blog entries. Now that I worry less, I seem to also be at a loss as to what to write about. Ah, excuses, excuses.

Hmmm, maybe that is my current angst: What do I write next?

Love Yourself Tomorrow Night!

2011-08-22T15:30:00.001+08:00

Here's your chance to have a date with four gorgeous guys in one night, all for 500 pesos only, hahaha! See you all tomorrow at Megamall.

Everybody Loves Zombady!

2011-08-22T13:22:00.003+08:00

The Alem Fabcast, Part 2

2011-08-19T11:43:00.001+08:00

Okay, so if you’re not sold on watching Ang Sayaw Ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa yet, then maybe listening to part two of our interview with Alem Ang, producer of the film, will get you even more interested.

In part two, Migs and Tony are joined by the late Gibbs and the even later McVie (D was also with me, but listened mostly to the discussion; he did contribute a comment or two later on). Here we discussed if the movie can be described as a “gay movie” or not, the art of the armpits of Rocco and Paulo, Rocco’s dancing, a couple of poems in the movie, and more kilig sa kilikili moments.

Listen and enjoy!

Download this fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Dancing With Tears In My Eyes” by Ultravox
“Symphony No. 6 ‘Pastorale,’ Cheerful gathering of country folk - Allegro” by Ludwig Van Beethoven; Christoph Von Dohnanyi and the Cleveland Orchestra
“The De Lesseps’ Dance” (from the soundtrack of “Shakespeare In Love”) by Stephen Warbeck
“Waltz Of The Flowers” (from “The Nutcracker Suite”) by Peter Tchaikovsky
“Many Meetings” (from “The Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring” soundtrack) by Howard Shore

* * * * *

And if the Fabcast still doesn’t convince you to watch, then these pictures will! (*All photos from the Sayaw Facebook page.)

An Open Letter By The Fabcasters

2011-08-18T18:30:00.002+08:00

Hello friends,

For some time now our friend and fellow Fabcaster, AJ Matela (of “Bakla Ako, May Reklamo” at http://baklaako.com) has been quite sick. Upon the advise of doctors, he has resigned from work and is now focused on getting his body back in shape. But he’s finding out the hard way just how tough this battle is going to be.

Some time ago AJ contracted mycobacterium avium complex. Nodules have been discovered in his lungs, and he has been coughing a lot. Immediate treatment is necessary to halt the spread of the disease. It means he needs to submit himself to several lab tests plus new multiple medicines on top of the daily ones he’s currently taking.

And today, Aug. 18, 2011, just after lunch, AJ was rushed to the emergency room. He has difficulty breathing on his own; on top of that, he has diarrhea. His weight has gone significantly down. AJ is currently confined in Medical Center Manila along UN Avenue.

All this time he has relied only on his family and relatives for help. All this time he’s kept details of his medical condition to just them. But it has now reached a point when help from relatives, generous as they have been, is not enough. Because he has resigned from work, he doesn’t have any health card to bank on.

All his life AJ has always prided himself on being self-reliant and self-sufficient. But now he realizes that he cannot do this alone. So now, as close friends of AJ, we turn to you for help.

Friends, at this point we appreciate any and every assistance we can receive. And with God’s help, plus your generosity and prayers, we hope for AJ to bounce back soon. You can personally send your help to me or any of the Fabcasters.

Joel McVie (on behalf of the other Fabcasters)

Whining In Unison

2011-08-17T19:28:00.004+08:00

Let me begin with several clarifications. I am happy for the Philippine Dragon Warriors for bagging 5 gold medals and 2 silver medals. I have nothing but respect and admiration for the hard work and dedication that the Warriors have exhibited, all for the love of the sport, dragonboat racing. And D has also taken up rowing.

Also, I am neither a big fan of the Azkals nor of soccer. (I am a bigger fan of male players as underwear models, but that’s a whole different story.)

But the recent flooding of tweets and Facebook statuses pitting the Philippine Dragonboat team and the Azkals have made me somewhat wary of the paddlers’ online supporters. It’s great to be passionate, but I just wish their zeal be tempered by some good old fashioned common sense.

My beef started with all of the whining and the woe-is-us attitude that have accompanied the dragonboat press. The local media happily picked it up and made a spin on how the paddlers went into competition with no support and no sponsors. It has gotten to the point that my housemate, when he found out that D had taken up rowing, said, “Di ba yung RP team nanalo? Kawawa naman sila ‘no, hindi sila sinuportahan ng gobyerno.” Even from an average Juan’s point of view, the dragonboaters are better known as the kawawa team who gave the country honor.

Wait a minute here. They had Cobra Energy Drink and Philippine Airlines as sponsors. Sure, those two alone may not have been enough to cover all the expenses of the athletes, but that’s better than none. More importantly, they were still able to fly and compete.

Many of our athletes do not get a lot of financial support from the government, even if these athletes bring honor to our country. The reality is, when you talk of limited public funds you run into the problem of which to prioritize. Sports? The arts? Public utilities? Health? Reproductive health? Military and national security? Transportation?

The dragonboat supporters cry, “Unfair!” when they see how Manny Pacquiao and the PBA are seemingly prioritized more, both by government and private sponsors. Well, tough luck. You mean the three Bs (boxing, billiards and basketball) are more popular and more familiar with more Filipinos? Deal with it. So the Azkals are more billboard-friendly than your athletes? Deal with it. There are just too many sports, too many teams and too many players for the government to subsidize. Deal with it. The world is unfair, but I don’t hear our sepak takraw athletes whining (at least, not yet).

In 1987, President Cory Aquino had the daunting task of rebuilding the Philippine economy after decades of plunder by the Marcoses and their cronies. One of the first things she sacrificed was culture and the arts; in the budget she submitted to Congress, government subsidies for the arts were slashed mercilessly.

I got a job at the Cultural Center of the Philippines the following year, and I saw first-hand how the CCP tried its best to maximize whatever monies they had. Yes, many of the artists decried Cory’s decision at first. And yet, after all that whining for support and pining for the good old days when Imelda was the patron saint (and primary purse) of the arts, the artists eventually just shut up and worked. They worked on getting corporate sponsorships. They worked on getting subsidies from abroad. And all the while they also worked on their craft. And despite the lack of government support, even up to today we still develop world-class Filipino artists, in ballet, theater, music and visual arts. (And an occasional Mideo Cruz, but I digress.)

If you really think about the bigger picture, a group of paddlers wailing “What about us?” pales in comparison to more urgent national issues. I wish they and their supporters stop bellyaching and crying to the government like a kid dependent on his parents’ baon, shut up and just start raising money on their own.

And as for their supporters, they should be more constructive instead of divisive. If they really believe that the dragonboat team deserves support, then maybe they should stop reposting and instead donate 1000 pesos to the team. Why wait for the government to decide to use taxpayers’ money on the team? It’s our money anyway, might as well give it directly to the athletes.

Support ba ka’mo? Then put your money where your mouth is.

Big

2011-08-16T16:49:00.005+08:00

At the Love Yourself Open Call Photoshoot, one of the organizers grabbed my arm and introduced me to one of their volunteers.

“McVie, this is O,” he said. “He has a crush on you.”

Then another organizer told me almost the same thing: “Hey, have you met O? You’re his type!”

I checked O out. Pleasant enough face, quiet type, seems like the kind who will quietly blend with the background if you let him. Nice ass. It’s not everyday that I find out that someone has a crush on me; I was never the crushable type. So I played nonchalantly and engaged O in conversation.

“So how did you get to be a volunteer here?” I asked.

He was hesitant at first. “I was invited by Sir He Who Will Remain Nameless For Reasons That Will Become Obvious Later to volunteer for this event,” he replied.

“Oh!” I said. “And how come you know He Who Will Remain Nameless For Reasons That Will Become Obvious Later?”

O smiled. “We’re both members of Big Manila.”

“What’s Big Manila?” I asked, naively.

“It’s an online community for chubs and chub-chasers.”

TOINKZ!

Ask and you shall receive. Seek and you shall find... out the answer, with a vengeance! LOL

So I wondered how he’d react to my next sentence. Smiling broadly, I asked him (again) nonchalantly, “So chubby pala ako?”

He just smiled.

Letche, hahaha! But come to think of it, even D said to me one time out of the blue, “Hon, I think I’m becoming a chub chaser.” I was going to pinch his singit but I realized he might actually like that.

Shet. Love Yourself ba ka’mo, ha? Ano nga yung letcheng URL ng Big Manila?! Charoz.

Shock Therapy

2011-08-16T12:15:00.006+08:00

What’s the big deal with being shocked or offended? Watch the following clip of author Philip Pullman on freedom of speech:

(Okay, okay, so your internet connection sucks. For those people, here is his soundbite: “No one has the right to live without being shocked. No one has the right to spend their life without being offended. Nobody has to read this book. Nobody has to pick it up. Nobody has to open it. And if they open it and read it, they don’t have to like it. And if you read it and you dislike it, you don’t have to remain silent about it. You can write to me. You can complain about it. You can write to the publisher. You can write to the papers. You can write your own book. You can do all those things. But there your rights stop. Nobody has the right to stop me writing this book. Nobody has the right to stop it being published, or sold, or bought, or read.”)

What struck me most were his first two sentences. If we are to champion democracy and freedom of speech, then we must be ready to be shocked, offended and presented with ideas different or even contrary to ours. That is the price we pay.

What democracy champions is a free market of ideas. In such a state, people are free to discuss, debate and even agree to disagree on ideas. What democracy does not tolerate is vandalism, threats of physical harm and the bullying of one Church over ideas contrary to theirs.

Of course, that is in an ideal world where adults are supposed to think in a mature way and act in a decent manner. Watching the Senate hearings on art and the Mideo Cruz exhibit issue, I’m woefully reminded of how much Reality bites.

The Alem Fabcast, Part 1

2011-08-15T18:32:00.011+08:00

Isn’t Rocco Nacino such a sweetheart?

The Love Yourself Project is having a special screening of Ang Sayaw Ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa (starring Rocco, Paulo Avelino and Jean Garcia) and Zombadings 1: Patayin Sa Shokot Si Remington on Aug. 23. And what better way to whet your appetite than a Fabcast with the filmmakers, right? We’ve already featured Zombading Raymond Lee, so now we focus on the producer with the two left feet, Alem Ang.

Listen in as Alem recounts his “accidental” foray into the world of producing indie films, and his experiences as a producer.

Download this episode (right click and save)
Music credits:

“Symphony No. 5, Allegro con brio” by Ludwig Van Beethoven; Christoph Von Dohnanyi and the Cleveland Orchestra
“The Shadow Of The Past” (from “The Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring” soundtrack) by Howard Shore
“Waltz Of The Flowers” (from “The Nutcracker Suite”) by Peter Tchaikovsky
“El Tango De Roxanne” (from “Moulin Rouge” soundtrack) by Ewan McGregor, Jose Feliciano & Jacek Koman

Who Art In Heaven?

2011-08-09T20:04:00.010+08:00

What is art? What is freedom of expression?

My initial knee-jerk reaction to those who were against Mideo Cruz’s art work (which I have personally seen for myself before all this hullabaloo and vandalization occurred) was simple: irritation.

But then religious groups threatened to sue the CCP and the artist. People started tweeting and posting on their Facebook status that freedom of expression has limits, and that art should respect other people’s sensibilities. Imelda Marcos jumped into the fray. And my blood began to boil. Who are these neo-fascists? Who are they to be the arbiters of truth? And who said art is only what’s true, good and beautiful?

But then I decided to step back and ask myself. Is it still art if it offends my sensibilities? Because I’m not too religious these days, Mideo’s exhibit didn’t shock me one bit; in fact, I was quite blase (or at the most, mildly amused) by the whole thing. In fact, I thought that the exhibit was too unsubtle, too obvious, too in-your-face (I’m just more partial to art that’s subtle and forces you to think). But it obviously offended others.

So I wondered how I’d react if someone came up with a painting or an exhibit that depicted gay activists like Harvey Milk and Larry Kramer in Nazi uniforms. Or showing an all-male orgy (wherein everyone’s engaged in unsafe sex) happening inside what is clearly an Auschwitz gas chamber.

If I were to be perfectly honest, I’d personally be offended. And while I do think that the artist has the right to exhibit his works, I would then worry about how this piece of art work can affect others who view it. What if it incites a viewer to further discriminate against homosexuals? How would I react if someone beside me says, “Ay, oo nga. Salot nga ang mga bakla sa lipunan.”

Let’s step down from high art and go to popular art. What if there’s a popular song sung by an act that’s popular and well-loved? What if instead of a pro-gay song like “Jay,” the Eraserheads (stay with me on this one, this is obviously a “what if”) came out with, “Bakla, Bakla, Bakit Ka Pa Ginawa?” Or a daily teleserye that depicted several gay characters as pedophiles preying on tweens and teens?

Then I’d really worry about those works spreading a message of intolerance and hate.

Let us widen the scope further. How about allowing a painting that depicts Filipinos as mere domestic helpers and scavengers, circling a billiard table in a layout replicating the “dogs playing billiards” scene which we see in so many Saudi-made pop paintings? What about a sculpture that shows Malakas and Maganda as pole-dancing sex workers, except the poles are made of bamboo? How would we feel if the works were done by a Filipino artist? Or will those feelings change if they were done by a foreigner?

But are they art? What if the paintings are excellently-crafted, the use of colors and its composition flawless? What if the songs are very catchy, melodically perfect and lyrically witty and crafty? What if the medium is excellent, and the only thing that offends me is the message? Will I be as cavalier in saying, “They’re free to say whatever they want”?

I know myself enough to say that I will never go out of my way in vandalizing any painting or sculpture. And I will most probably not buy any record or refuse to watch a particular program that I personally find offensive. But can I demand that radio stations not play the song because it not only offends my sensibilities, it spreads hatred towards gays? If I get all the gays on Planet Romeo and Grindr combined to sign a petition asking that all radio stations pull out “Bakla, Bakla, Bakit Ka Pa Ginawa?” from their playlist, are we then guilty of bullying and censorship?

Perhaps one can raise the argument that those kinds of pieces, whether painting or music or performance, are not “art” but rather “propaganda.” So we go back to my first question: what is art? And who died and made Imelda or the Catholic Church “God of All That Is Art?”

Leni Rienfenstahl’s Triumph of the Will is a film commissioned by Adolf Hitler himself that showed the 1934 Nazi party rally. It is called a propaganda film, and yet Rienfenstahl’s use of film “techniques, such as moving cameras, the use of long focus lenses to create a distorted perspective, aerial photography, and revolutionary approach to the use of music and cinematography, have earned Triumph recognition as one of the greatest films in history.” That the film has artistic merit is clear; that it was also seen as promoting Hitler’s cause is also clear. And we all know what happened after Hitler’s rise to power.

Whether or not we get a precise definition of art, in the end what is clear to me is this. If we are to espouse freedom of expression, if we are to respect other people’s ideas even if they go directly against our beliefs, then we must be ready to allow others to offend us with their art as well.

That’s the price of democracy.

Awaaaard!

2011-08-08T16:40:00.004+08:00

The movie starts its commercial run on August 31, but you can jump the gun on your friends and watch it several days earlier, on August 23 at the Special Screening for the benefit of the Love Yourself Project (see previous blog entry).

Why should you watch it? Martin Escudero is, I believe, quite the revelation here. If I can, I will nominate him for a Best Newcomer Award. Not only does he display amazing acting chops here, he also has the looks that can charm your pants off. I swear, love ko na siya (but don’t tell Rocco that, ha). Also, Roderick Paulate IS Roderick Paulate. ‘Nuff said. Plus! THE Eugene Domingo is THE Eugene Domingo. If you’re not yet convinced, you must be straight. (So what are you doing, reading my blog?!)

A Night With Martin, Rocco And Paulo (Saan Ka Pa?!)

2011-08-08T11:26:00.008+08:00

Wanna see Zombadings with the uber-cute and extremely talented Martin Escudero? Now you have a chance to watch that and another critically lauded Cinemalaya film, Ang Sayaw Ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa, starring sizzling-hot Rocco Nacino and nosebleed-inducing Paulo Avelino. Not only do you get to watch two excellent indie movies, but you also get to help out the Love Yourself Project.

The special screening will happen on Tuesday, Aug. 23, 2011, at SM Megamall Cinema 9. Sayaw unspools at 7pm; after a brief intermission, it will be followed by Zombadings at 9pm. You can choose to watch just one movie; tickets are at Php300 each. But if you choose to watch both that night, ticket prices are Php500 for both.

Check out the following video:

If you’re interested to watch, I’m selling tickets! Just message me here, leave your contact number or email address.

The Evolution Fabcast With Raymond Lee, Part 2

2011-08-08T11:01:00.003+08:00

In the second and last part of our interview with Raymond Lee, we discuss about having boyfriends, falling for straight-acting gay guys, being patok with provincial lads, and the incident that sparked the creation of the movie Zombadings 1: Patayin Sa Shokot Si Remington.

Migs, Tony and I had the privilege of watching the world premiere of the movie during Cinemalaya, so we segued into discussing the movie, which was written by Raymond and Michiko Yamamoto and directed by Jade Castro. We don’t give any spoilers, but watch out for the moment when we revealed our favorite moments in the film.

Intrigued? Listen in!

Download this Fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:

“My Kinda Girl (feat. Nelly)” by Pitbull
“Peace” by George Winston
“Je Me Donne A Qui Me Plait” by Brigitte Bardot
“Carmina Burana - 1. Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi: O Fortuna” by Carl Orff
“...And Then I Kissed Him” (from Pearl Harbor soundtrack) by Hans Zimmer

The Evolution Fabcast With Raymond Lee, Part 1

2011-08-07T23:59:00.006+08:00

At the photo shoot for the Love Yourself Project, three of the Fabcasters cornered renowned screenwriter Raymond Lee for an impromptu interview. Migs, Tony and I had a hoot discussing Raymond’s transformation. Listen to Ang Pagdadalaga Ni Raymond Lee, part 1.

Download this Fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:

“Ikaw Ang Miss Universe Ng Buhay Ko” by Hotdog
“I Just Want To Make Love To You” by Etta James
“Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon” by Urge Overkill
“La Molina” by Yma Sumac
“Now We Are Free” by Hans Zimmer & Lisa Gerrard
“I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman” by Britney Spears

Someone Had A Lao-sy Day

2011-08-04T14:05:00.011+08:00

Christopher Lao made several mistakes that day. No driver in his right mind would just plow his car willy-nilly into a flooded street, yet he did (he could have waited, asked or turned around). He allowed himself to be interviewed by a camera crew (he could have easily refused to answer). And then he put the blame on everybody else.

So now he’s all over the Internet. A couple of Facebook pages have been created in (dubious) honor of Christopher Lao. The GMA News video has not only gone viral, several re-edited versions of it have also been doing the rounds (one had the parting of the Red Sea in The Ten Commandments inserted into the clip). Cyber-bullying? More like cyber-gang bang.

The reason why people are ganging up on him is simple. They were reacting to the arrogance that he displayed. Had Christopher Lao scratched his head, smiled sheepishly as he answered, in an embarrassed tone, “Yeah, my bad. I didn’t think the flood was going to be that deep,” then that would have been the end of the story. No one would even remember his name, despite it being flashed onscreen. Instead, he pointed his fingers at everyone else. “Why me?” he was even bemused when the reporter dared to point it back to him. To him, it’s everyone else’s responsibility to keep him informed. Well, Christopher Lao is now finding out that Pinoys aren’t exactly forgiving to ordinary folks who mistakenly flaunt their arrogance in public; just ask Rafa Santos.

(As for public figures who brazenly flaunt their arrogance, like Willie Revillame or the CBCP or any politician for that matter, well, they too get castigated in cyberspace, but perhaps they are too thick-skinned to care. But that’s another story.)

I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes right now. But if I were, I’d just keep quiet. Christopher Lao, if you come out blaming the GMA News team for editing the clip in such a way that it made you look bad, don’t. That will only make things worse. “Why me?” you asked. Now everyone’s pointing out something that you seem to be more oblivious of than the depths of the floodwaters: yes, you. The problem is with you. You already!

Christopher Lao, you have been informed.

* * * * *

ADDENDUM: He has already released his official statement on Facebook (click on the link here). And with that, let us allow him to have the last say.

Star Studded

2011-08-02T12:50:00.003+08:00

Na-Stress Drillon akiz dahil ang Mahalia Jackson ng ticket papuntang Dubai. Eh gusto ko sa Majinit Jackson na lugar kasi Haggardo Versosa na akiz sa sobrang Julanis Morisette dito sa Maynila. Afraidie Aguilar na akiz sa baha, nakaka-Irrita Gomez! Tapos na-Julie Yap Daza ko ang housemate ko na pilit suotin pa rin ang kanyang ‘di-pa tuyo na medyas; eh amoy-kulob, kaya ang Smellanie Marquez! Ewww, kadiri. Cynthia Patag, ka’mo? Yung guwapo kong housemate, yung mahilig magsuot ng Skimpee De Leon na mga outfits. Huy ha, hindi ako Bitter Ocampo sa kanya dahil ayaw niya akong patulan! Che! Hay naku, makahanap na lang nga ng may lighter at Makikicindy Kurleto ng yosi, kahit papaano ay makaranas ng konting Anjinit Agbayari.

Video Of The Week

2011-08-02T11:50:00.002+08:00

Holy effing shit! OK Go makes the coolest music videos. Watch this one!

The Age-Old Issues

2011-08-01T16:04:00.003+08:00

Picking up D at his dorm, I asked the receptionist to buzz him in his room. Because the dorm intercom was busted, the receptionist asked the lady guard to go upstairs and knock on his door. I sat on the sofa at the reception area and played Stupid Zombies in my iPod Touch while waiting.

After a few minutes the lady guard went down and took her place again beside the reception desk. She must have felt the need to engage me in conversation, because as soon as she sat at her chair she asked me,“Bumaba na ba siya?”

“Ah hindi pa,” I answered.

Then she asked, “Anak mo siya?”

Toinkz!

I smiled and said, “Ah hindi po.”

To be perfectly honest I just found that particular question funny. It doesn’t bother me that I’m old enough to be D’s dad. D and I never had an issue over the age difference; if we did, we wouldn’t even be together in the first place. In fact, I do take some kind of pride in the fact that despite the age difference, we can and do work things out.

What surprised me more was that I now look like a dad. Oh dear. After years of people getting surprised and telling me, “What?! You’re already 40-plus years old?!” I now have to get used to the fact that I’m now beginning to look my age.

Along with this obsession with looking young, I’m also letting go of this unhealthy desire to be borta-licious. I just don’t want to be too fat as to be unhealthy; otherwise, I’ve never sought the (un)Holy Grail of most gay men: a six-pack. When you really think about it, how much love can a six-pack give you?

I see all these tweets and Facebook messages of people obsessing to be borta. For guys who are still quite young, I guess it’s understandable. Still, to them and the rest I say, good luck! I hope you find happiness in your obsession with the physical; may your physical goals fill up your life with meaning and joy.

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Pesos (And More)

2011-07-29T18:05:00.002+08:00

Want to have a picture worthy of your Facebook profile, Twitter account and your numerous other accounts in your different social media sites? (This may also include your accounts in Planet Romeo, Manjam, Grindr and the like, although after finishing reading this post, you may decide it inappropriate for those site. Or maybe not, hehehe.)

Thanks to ubiquitous cameras, whether the point-and-shoots or in-phones, camera whoring has turned us into nano-narcissists. But what if that selfish act is used for a selfless cause?

Then consider joining the Love Yourself Charity Photoshoot on Sunday, Aug. 14, from 10am to 10pm. For a Php1,000 donation, you get (1) one Love Yourself t-shirt; (2) grooming services for the shoot; and (3) one digital photo layout, in the style of “Love Yourself.”

Do something for yourself as well as for others. How’s that for dual motives?

For more information and to register, click the link here.

Pioneers And Inspirations, Now On YouTube

2011-07-26T21:19:00.004+08:00

Because lately I’ve been fooling around more with iMovie, I decided to place on YouTube our Fabcast sessions with Dan & Rye. Wala lang. Because I can.

A Backlash Against The Baklas!

2011-07-26T20:57:00.003+08:00

I read with interest Michael Davis C. Tan’s article “An open letter to the people behind Zombadings 1: Patayin Sa Shokot si Remington” in Outrage Magazine. Read it first here before proceeding.

So, is Zombadings a comedic exercise in self-hatred? Is it a satirical, self-aware attempt to poke fun at gay issues? Or is it a reprehensible, irresponsible movie that pushes the gay agenda seven (or more) years back?

What I find interesting in Mr. Tan’s point-by-point analysis of the movie is how careful, how serious, how politically correct each point is. Which is expected of an advocate, I agree (he doesn’t hide his pink advocacy colors anyway).

But this film is a comedy. And if there’s one thing I realized, advocates and comedians will often be at odds with how comedy works. Comedians are serious about not taking things seriously; advocates are serious about taking their causes seriously. For comics, making fun of things is acceptable; nothing is sacred. For advocates, making fun of a sacred cause is, well, a mockery; worse, they fear such mockery can easily be misinterpreted by the audience, making it all the more dangerous.

You know, for the longest time now I’ve not found anything funny with this whole political correctness thing, especially when it’s quite rigid and demanding. And I suppose that’s where the road really diverges, eh? “Being gay is not a sumpa.” But of course! It is obvious that the filmmakers know this to be true. And herein lies the difference: while the filmmakers are fairly confident that no one who watches their film will afterwards drag their gay son to an arbularyo and expect macho dancers to appear during a seance, Mr. Tan seems to fear that there will be those in the audience who will take the whole sumpa thing seriously (“Eh sabi kasi sa pelikula!”). Movies and their audiences do not exist in a vacuum; if someone does take the movie too literally, there will always be another person who will end up whacking him on the head. My mom always has a favorite phrase to put us children in place whenever we got carried away by a movie: “Hay naku mga anak, it’s just a movie!” And that, dear folks, is a healthy sense of perspective. That Mr. Tan believes that “this film believes homosexuality is curable is ignorant” is, well, silly. And, as the cliché goes, silliness has to be excused.

Mr. Tan also makes an interesting case of acceptance versus tolerance: “LGBT advocates do not exist because we want to be tolerated – we actually already are. We exist to push for acceptance.” That I understand; someone must fight the good fight.

But maybe therein lies the rub. Maybe seven years later, despite what we see in the news, there are now gays and gay-friendly people who can actually make fun of themselves and the gay situation. What advocates see as self-hatred, others see as having a sense of perspective and (dare I say it?) maturity. And maybe in their militant push for the kind of acceptance they want, these advocates fail to realize that, in certain cases, what they deem as mere tolerance is actually another form of acceptance by society.

Pioneers And Inspirations

2011-07-25T11:35:00.011+08:00

Gibbs so aptly put it. Back in 2007 there was a Pinoy pink podcast that captured the ears (and hearts and funny bones) of Pinoy bekis both here in the country and abroad. The podcast was The Dan & Rye Show, featuring two of the pioneering Pinoy cast members of the (then) newly-opened Disneyland Hong Kong. Their hilarious chit-chats, recorded without editing, revealed a friendship and a chemistry that was engaging, endearing and highly entertaining. They tackled anything and everything they felt like tackling, from silly in-house blind-item chismis to gay rights to the lives of OFWs.

Migs, Gibbs and I stumbled upon their podcast online. After hearing their podcasts, Migs said, “Hey, we can do a podcast too!” Thus was born the Troikasters; after several episodes, the original three expanded to become the Fabcasters.

After a few years the contracts of Dan and Rye weren’t renewed by Disney, and they both went their separate lives. And we never heard of the two together in a podcast again.

Until now.

Pardon the delay in posting, our day jobs have been quite busier than usual of late. Still, hearing the two once again in a podcast is a joy, especially for this particular fanboy. Their laughter is infectious, and they’re my sure-shot mood-lifters. I’ve always believed in their tandem; heck, I even fantasized one time that they have their own television show. That may just remain a fantasy; but at least for now we have the chance to hear them once again.

So to the fans of The Dan & Rye Show, as well as fans of gay podcasts in general, this one’s for you!

Part 1:

Download Part 1 (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Remember The Time” by Michael Jackson / “Yesterday” by The Beatles / “Only Yesterday” by The Carpenters / “Turn Back Time” by Aqua
“All The Lovers” by Kylie Minogue
“Get Outta My Way” by Kylie Minogue

Part 2:

Download Part 2 (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Don’t You Remember” by Adele / “Don’t Forget To Remember Me” by The Bee Gees / “Get Back” by The Beatles
“Run The World (Girls) by Beyonce
“Miss Claire Remembers” by Enya
“October Wedding” by Montreux
“Sa Aking Pag-iisa” by Cinderella Feat. Yolly Samson
“One” by The Bee Gees
“Baby Elephant” by Rene Touzet
“Frenesi-Twist? by Les Elgart & His Orchestra
“Careless Whispers” by Wham!
“If I Loved You” by Barbra Streisand
“Wannabe” by The Spice Girls
“Shadowlands” by George Fenton

The Love Yourself Project

2011-07-21T18:51:00.002+08:00

If you have any questions about HIV but were afraid to ask, then here’s the answer. The Love Yourself Project: HIV discreet and confidential HIV counseling for the youth and MSMs. You can now contact them.

The Love Yourself Project is also now seeking volunteers to help out in their advocacy. If you’re interested, check out their blog site here. You can also get in touch with them there.