Hospi Tales

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

I'm sick, so instead of a real coherent update, I shall save myself the effort of organizing my thoughts and just place them all here for you to sift through. Here are the scenes and thoughts that occured to me while I was in the Emergency Room last night.

- Confucius say "Man who want pretty nurse must learn to be patient."

- From an ER attendant "Welcome to the ER, is there anything we can get you? Hot drink? Cold drink? Oral or suppository?

- And what if anime characters suddenly find themselves in hospitals?

Napa: Hey Vegeta, what's our differential diagnosis on that newcomer?
Dr. Vegeta: It's OVER 9000!!!!!!!!!!

Dr. Vegeta: Yellow hair, yellow eyebrows, yellow aura, yellow eyes - I'm convinced.
Goku: Super Saiyan?
Dr. Vegeta: Hepatitis. The sexually transmitted kind.
Goku: Whoah, your hair's yellow too.
Dr. Vegeta: Too much unprotected dragonballs.

- By the end of the night, I've been pestering every single nurse coming by my bed, I swear I overheard one of the doctors "I don't care if that could kill him. If he makes so much as one wrong move, tranq that sonnuvabitch before he starts talking our student nurses to death."

- I got so bored, when the doctor passed by my place, I just yelled "Doc, did I pass the test?"

The doc smiled and replied "Yes, son, you're three months pregnant."

To which my mother said, or rather yelled "OH GOD WHO'S THE FATHER!?"

I followed with "It could've been anybody from the office!"

"Umamin ka na!" my mom exclaimed.

I shook my head and started sobbing, "Si Marco Fernando Miguel Calle San Juan!"

By that time, about three or four nurses were listening already, depriving other patients who were probably more dying than me of the care they needed.

I think that was when the tranquilizers started landing on different parts of my body because I can't remember what happened after that.

- But before that, my mom and I were talking about the 78 year old patient who was in a bed opposite of mine. He pissed and shit on himself, even with the assitance of three people. Our conversation went something like this:

Mom: When somebody's 78 already, they should just learn to let him go.
Jet: WTF
Mom: I guess I'm just being practical. When I get that old, maybe you'll treat me practically too and just let me die.
Jet: LOL Well, I guess I wouldn't like it too when I can't do anything fun.
Mom: And what fun can a 78 year-old do?
Jet: For starters, you can urinate anywhere you want.

At this point the old man from the other bed starts glaring at me. But what can he do? I'd sucker punch him back to second childhood if he budges so far as an inch away from his self-made puddle of shit-ala-piss cocktail (which stinks enough to remind me why I hate having to go to Emergency Rooms) Anyway back to the conversation.

Mom: *laughs out loud*
Jet: Think about it. If you're 22 and you take a leak on top of your table in a fancy restaurant, you'd probably have to do jailtime for it.
Mom: Or mental hospital time.
Jet: But if you do that some 56 years later, and you do it, what you get is a bunch of apologists saying it's okay because you're old enough for a stunt like that, to which the manager of the restaurant will profusely offer any means to prevent it from happening again. So, free steak meal for everybody - if you can bear the pungent odour.
Mom: Maybe we should be in the mental ward instead...

- A bit of seriousness now. It's most interesting to note that while I was playing around in my bed, the three other patients who were obviously in worse conditions did not have the perk of medical insurance i was enjoying and had to refuse certain tests because of their costs. Pity I can't share my medicard.

- Later that night, several victims of a car accident walked in. Sleeping in the ER is a lot like trying to doze off in the middle of a screamo band vocalist audition. Hearing stuff about "laceration in the jugular with traces of gangrene" and "prepare the OR for amputation" isn't exactly the best of bedtimes either.

- Some portions of this post may have been altered for their humor content. This is probably the part where I'm supposed thank and greet people who don't read my blog anyway. To the crew of San Juan De Dios ER, hats off to you guys and girls.

Translation Woes

Monday, January 29, 2007

The past few days I've been obsessing in converting to English a particular Korean song that's probably one of the hardest songs to convert for more than just one reason. The title of the song is Wanna Be Free, sung by a Korean actress whose name I've given up trying to remember. It's a piece created for a game called Ragnarok Online, and is basically a background tune laced with Korean lyrics. Sounds simple enough right? It gets complicated faster than having a black man in the White House.

First of all, there are no existing translations of the song online, and Korean isn't exactly the language of the masses. Every attempt I've had in asking for translations have either been ignored or met with stupid questions to the likes of "What's this gibberish?" and "North Korean or South Korean?". It hurt my head so much, I'm still in therapy as of this moment.

But then again, there'a break. The song is based on a traditional Korean song called Jeongeupsa - a classical song and I actually found lyrics for that one. Here comes a big problem - everything in the lyrics so figurative that I can't directly translate squat into English without losing the sense of what the song means.

Okay, okay, so maybe I'm just being too whiney about that part. I can actually do the conversion such that the English lyrics will fit. But then there's another problem - even if the song fits. In case you havent heard the tune of Wanna Be Free!, it's actually one of the cheeriest songs in the world. A suicidal man about to jump off could hear it and start orgasming enough to not want to kill himself anymore.

The last claim may or may not have been exaggerated.

In case you're interested, the meaning of the lyrics of Wanna Be Free is about a woman begging the moon to grow brighter so her peddler husband can find his way home. The woman is dying from some sort of skin disease (probably leprosy) so she has only one eye left to look for her husband - and her husband happens to be dead already. I don't think I can put in more tragedy into something more tragic than that.

See the problem there?

Even if I can translate the song word per word, people will be asking why the lyrics are so goddamn morbid even if the tune is ecstasy-grade happy. And what's more likely, a translator fucking up his work and turning somebody else's good song bad or a retarded composer turning his/her own bad? That's right. It will look bad on my part.

After a few hours of trying, I finally get pissed off and just laid out the lyrics somewhere between "somewhat related" and "completely fabricated". So, instead of the wife singing, the husband does the singing - and he's no longer dead. And there will be no more mention of dead eyeballs and leprosy. I censored the song like a communist on a cultural revolution.

And while we're on the subject, WHY ARE KOREANS SO DAMN INCLINED TO EVERYTHING TRAGIC? Somebody always dies in their soaps/movies. Bad endings are mandatory. In music videos, the death rate is one per video. If countries were people, Korea would be that emo kid who always mopes and makes poems about death. I hate emo kids, no wonder the gothtard North Korea is always up the South's ass.

Anyway back to translation. I'm actually done already, and am just waiting for the scheduling of the recording session. In case you're curious how hard translation can get, I'd like you to try converting this sentence to English:

Pang-ilang presidente si Manuel Roxas?

"Manuel Roxas" doesn't have to be translated anymore so basically that's just three words to translate. Now go kiss your elbow.

Sick Day Post

Friday, January 26, 2007

I'm sick (biologically) today so no long dragging post.

Will be leaving for Hongkong again on the 5th of Feb if this stupid sickness doesn't kill me first.

Update: I wont be going anywhere due to rescheduling. I've also checked my symptoms out - I have gastroenteritis, the exact same sickness I was joking about just a few nights ago. Talk about Karma huh?

Just an update.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

I already have somebody who will be singing for the translated song and three other people waiting in line in case the vocalist dies/fails/dies and fails. The working title is "Wanna Be Free!", same as the original. Here's the first version of the piece, that will make the singer duet with the original. I mixed two tracks for this, and if you listen carefully enough, you'll notice where the tracks split and join. I'll have that fix as soon as my pc stops acting like a stop dancing piece of ****.

I've revamped the lyrics to suit the purpose of the song rather than to stick with the original tragic theme.

Here's the link:
[edited. As advised, I'm pulling it off this site. Baka may mangopya daw]

Decepticons, Homosexualize!

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Growing up, we often find ourselves outgrowing our childhood favorites. We look back at the shows we watched as a kid and say, "I used to enjoy that?" Like for example whenever I see "Denver The Last Dinosaur", I just curl up into a ball and cry tears of regret. Well that's the case for some cartoons I've watched as a kid.

Then there are those shows that are just plain cool. Like for example, if I watch Captain Power now, I'd still think it's kickass.

Transformers sits somewhere between between oldschool glory and just plain WTF. The reason? Because unlike other shows it's still evolving. And it's sad to say it's not evolving for the better.

Here's the original Megatron as he appeared in the package art of the first generation toy version:


As you can see, he's a literal icon of manhood. He is a Phallic Symbol. A symbol of power, control - depicted by an image of the penis. A stainless silver one at that. Just so you know why a lot of guys are obsessed with their penis size nowadays, that's because they grew up looking up to characters like Megatron, whose decepticon brand of sodomy is probably worse than his bite. (one look at the face of Bumble Bee everytime he gets captured every other episode and you know he's not enjoying it)


Then came the Beast Wars. I don't know what hollywood was thinking when they thought it'd be really cool to convert a transforming GUN into a transforming PURPLE FUCKING DINOSAUR. We already have the Dinobots. I don't see why we had to go through with this shit again. I thought we were through with grimlock's shitty debut already. Was it the ratings of Barney you retarded sausagestuffers?! Nobody wants to see robots transforming into nonexistent, gay coloured animals. From Phallic Symbol to "Me Licks Your Balls". That's one helluva transformation even for a transformer. If they were human, we'd call the metamorphosis "coming out of the closet".

After being barraged by lots of complaints (I didnt research this, Im just assuming it'd be in basic human nature to contest attrocities like this) they tried to transform megatron again. By transform I mean further degrade.


Yes, they turned him into a fucking alligator. An alligator? When was the last time you heard somebody get killed by an alligator? In Africa, more people are killed by hippoppotami than alligators, and crocodiles combined. Volkswagens kill more people than alligators. That means at this point, the suckiest Transformer, Bumblebee steamed past this piece of shit. And that's about as shitty as this gets.

Realizing that the Beast Wars is just plain cockery and nobody wants to see it anymore, they returned to the originals in Transformers, Cybertron, plus a few changes of course, because they just cant sit their asses without ruining a perfectly good formula. Look at the 2006 version of Megatron:

NICE JOB MAKING HIM STUCK IN THE 70's YOU TIMERETARDED DIPSTICKS! What kind of evil robot leader would want to get caught wearing disco-fucking-pants in the 21st century? And what the fuck is up with those green wings? Megatron: King of Fairies. Yeah, I bet that'd fit a villain's role. If there's a villain convention every year, I bet he'd be the villain nobody wants to hang around. Shredder with his purple cloak will walk past him and say "Man, that's some fucked up bad guy."

TRANSFORMERS IS TURNING FROM PURE WIN TO JUST PLAIN GAY.

And I know who's to blame.

It's those aliens!

It's a fucking conspiracy. The aliens want all human children to turn gay so nobody will want to fight back when they start invading- and they'll get free manicures for life. I will not go quietly into the night - and it seems I am not alone. Here's the latest incarnation of the symbol of manhood that is Megatron, as stolen from the archives of the upcoming Transformers Movie


(To be voiced by Samuel "Mutherfucking Autobotz on My Motherfuckin Cybertron" Jackson. Well not really, it'd just be better if that were the case.)

Wanted: Gamer Girl Who Can Sing

Short advertisment. I'm currently looking for somebody who can sing a song I've written. Guaranteed publicity and exposure to at least 500 listeners for whoever takes the task. I have no money to give to whoever volunteers but I can give a special token of appreciation when I get back from Hong Kong. You'll be singing a song ported from another language, so it shouldn't be to hard. I can handle the synth'ing and editing. If you don't have any recording devices, I'd be more than glad to let you use mine. All I need is your voice.

Leave a post here or drop a message on my YM: redkinoko.

Thanks and have a nice day.

UPDATE: WE HAVE TAKERS ALREADY! THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPOT.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

SHREVEPORT, Louisiana (AP) -- A female chimpanzee at a sanctuary has given birth, despite the fact that the facility's entire male chimp population has had vasectomies.

Now managers at Chimp Haven are planning a paternity test for the seven males who lived in a group with Teresa, a wild-born chimpanzee in her late 40s who had the baby girl last week.

Workers have started collecting hair samples from the chimps for testing. Once they identify the father, it's back to the operating room for him.

Chimp Haven managers said they knew something was up when Teresa was missing during morning rounds on January 8. Later in the day, she appeared with a newborn chimpanzee in her arms.

"Well, we were all just a little bit surprised when we heard the news," said Linda Brent, a spokeswoman for Chimp Haven.

The baby chimpanzee was named Tracy and she and her mother are doing fine, Brent said.

http://www.cnn.com/2007/TECH/science/01/17/pregnant.chimp.ap/index.html

  • I say before testing the monkeys, start giving paternity tests to the zookeepers. That oughta keep them on their toes. I can imagine their anxious faces waiting for the DNA test results. Not that they think they accidentally boned and impregnated a hulking gorilla, but because they might be working with somebody who fancies exotic sex. A maniac with a strange fetish can't be good in the workplace I think - unless the maniac's a she. And her name happens to be Carmen Electra - in which case a gorilla impregnation will still be sick, but it'd be tolerably sick. The type you'd recover from and reap benefits later on.

  • I may or may not have gone a bit too far with that last line.

  • This would also be a good opportunity to dress up like a doctor and play pranks like "Contratulations STEVE! You're now a father!" on those poor zookeepers. The unlucky bastard would probably think of a thousand reasons how it could've been possible. And then maybe after a few years when the gorilla babies have grown up and the man realizes they look nothign like him, you can tell him you were just joking and that he doesnt have to give them child support. You guys will probably have a good laugh at the local tavern. But then again if he does look like the baby...

  • Or, maybe nobody's the father. Like you know, leave it to the monkeys that virgin birth is indeed possible. Score one for the fundamentalists.

  • Some days, you just look at the news and chuckle. Other days you get less serious news like these.

Now It's My Turn To Ask The Question

Monday, January 22, 2007

You think you got what it takes to play detective? Okay. Here is a picture of a table being sold in ebay. How do you tell that it's being sold by a man?

a ) It doesn't match the rest of the furniture.

b) Wine bottles in the condiments section of the dining room.

c) You look in the mirror and see the photographer.


So what's the next step after nude painting classes? Nude photography.

re: A Different Kind Of Virus

I noticed the enquiries posted at the tagboard so I guess it's also part of my role around here to provide info about stuff I post here. If you're not a regular, before you read this you should first try going over this earlier post. Without further ado, it's "Question and Answer" time!

Question 1: You know i'm wondering and i'm really curios about the grammersoft and the fascinating luv bug? [sic]

Grammersoft is the alleged blackhat group Mr. De Guzman was part of. Although the group was in fact mentioned in the ILOVEU virus, there have been no indications that they've actually done anything significant as a group (zero zone-h.org entries et al). It's also improper to call the ILOVEU virus as a "love bug" because a) it's not a bug and b) it's not a love bug.

Question 2: my crazy thought's keep disturbing me

This is not really a question. And yes, thinking that a virus is anything near "fascinating" is a sure sign of disturbed thinking.

Question 3: How do they do that or he onel de guzman?

Sections of the virus have been lifted off another virus that has its code out in the public - Melissa. They managed to alter some parts of it and include what made the ILOVEU so goddamn widespread - the additional element of social engineering. Social engineering is the method of manipulating people into giving the information you need or doing what you want. In this case, the SE part is using the words "I LOVE YOU" to make people open the email and download the attachment. People are gullible toads.

Question 4: and is it really exist the grammersoft?

Not anymore. All your base are belong to us. You have no chance to survive make your time.

Question 5: if it so? are they really have the capacity? and how do filipino like us can do this?

The thought of that the first and last idiot who ever got caught writing a virus is a Filipino makes me sad. Any dipstick who knows cut+copy+paste can write one, but that doesn't make it anything remotely intelligent. Now it's more like, if a Filipino can do it, who can't?

Question 6: where when how and why they can do that who teaches them?

Too many W's. I'm blinded. Who teaches writing viruses? Please try asking NBI. Tell them you want to make viruses. Please. Or google it, caveboy.

-----------------------------
I think I died just a little trying to answer those questions. I feel like reading through that list mentally molests my mind. This'll probably be the last time I'm entertaining any questions like that.

The Power of Repetition

Friday, January 19, 2007

Take this test if you might be one of the those people who wish that they have the power of repetition - the ability to change things if you do something repeatedly enough.

1. Do you ever find yourself pressing the elevator button once too many to "speed up" the arrival of the elevator?

2. Do you find yourself switching an appliance on and off more than three times if it doesnt work the first time you try?

3. Do you find yourself clicking a web hyperlink more than once to speed up the loading time?

4. How many times do you depress the hang-up button of a landline telephone?

5. Do you like to use your palms or fists to bang the side of any appliance that won't start up?

6. When you press the C/AC button of a calculator, do you do it repeatedly?

7. Do you press the backspace more than the number of characters you're trying to erase when trying to completely erase input in a text box?

8. When your computer hangs up, do you find yourself pressing keys repeatedly, even though you know they won't really do anything to fix the problem?

If you answered yes to many of these questions, you may be one of those people.

You may be suffering from a certain flavour of the Obsessive Compulsive disorder - a neurotic's problem. It's nothing big. It basically means your an idiot of the biological kind, and that society's used to people like you.

And you need a doctor.

Out of Load

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

For the first time in years, my cellphone load actually expired before I was able to consume it. I really should try this "friend" thing everybody's been raving about. And while I'm at it, I just might get this so-called "life" that's coming highly recommended even by people who hate my guts.

If I'm not texting back, that means I'm either out of load or I don't care or I don't care enough to get load to text back. Whichever, that just means I won't be texting back still, even if you send yet another message.

Pipip-pipip

Worse Than Snakes

Oh boy. I guess if there's writing material that I'm not running out of anytime soon, it'd be airplanes, airports, and just about anything involved in sending stupid to soaring new heights.

So I was flying home from HK yesterday when I got in line in Immigration with a girl, presumably Chinese because of the 2cm lateral epicantic folds in her eyes (yeah, it gets hard to identify them without that piece of info). Not a problem, like, you know, I get clearance, she gets clearance, we wait for a couple of minutes and we don't have to share anything else.

Nothing big.

At least until she decided to kickoff her campaign of bioterrorism on the spot. She started coughing like crazy. Seven times in a row in under thirty seconds. I couldve sworn she was trying to do a human beatbox play of the percussion intro of Linkin Park's papercut.

I can almost feel the surge of bacteria in the air, but I actually let it slip, because hey, "going home" day is a happy day. I just tried to make the immigration clearance process as fast as possible.

But it seems I must have a knack for finding sick people to cough at me. Two hours later she was sitting on the same plane I was in. Behind my seat. I wonder why I never get this lucky when it comes to gorgeous supermodels riding the plane with me.

Anyway, in case you're not familiar, the airplane runs on a closed-circuit ventilation system - meaning anything that enters the air sticks in the air for the duration of the flight, be that bong smoke, fart, or - for this case - stuff that makes you sick.

A few minutes in, I was looking for Jews, because the place sure felt like a gas chamber.

And, oh hoo, was she at it or what? I could've sworn the stewardess had to check the engines twice to see if it was having any problems because there were intense cough-like sounds coming from the wing area. Why? She wasn't covering her mouth is why.

I'm not sure with my History, but I'm pretty sure the Handkerchief has been around for at least 600 years already, and I don't think it's use hasn't changed a lot since then. I figured that maybe during that span of existince the ancestor of this woman should've at least picked up the ability to learn how to use it.

Apparently not.

I was almost ready to scream: "HANDKERCHIEF, CAVEWOMAN! DO YOU HAVE IT?"

I felt like I was in a ridiculous but horrifying thriller movie - like Snakes On A Plane. Except Samuel L. Jackson is not around to yell "There are motherfucking snakes on the motherfucking plane!" because there are no snakes in this movie.

Only stupid people with bad cases of cough and ignorance.

Type Mix (Yet another prologue)

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

I'm going back to Manila today, so no real updates. Here's something I've been working on the side though, a new fic - still related to Ragnarok Online, but barely. The fic is untitled still but I have several chapters written already. The overall atmosphere of the story so far is light. And I hope I can keep it that way. Here's the draft of the prologue

Prologue: The Forest of Payon

The darkness of the thick forests of Payon gives no man merit to pass through at night. Its thick, ageless conifers block any night light with branching canopies, seamless and unforgiving. The largely uneven terrain filled with bluffs, craggs, and bottomless pits made sure anybody foolish enough to tread it without prior knowledge would never be found again. Stories of vanishing travelers, caravans and even armies were not uncommon, for even the most experienced of rangers dared not enter the wooden labyrinth of its heart.

But to a desperate soul, the untrodden path would be best to lose everything but oneself.

Thundering claws rumbling through soft earth blasted through the tranquil nightwatch of the local fauna as two heavily armoured Pecopecos, legendary birds of burden, came bursting through a section of foot-high shurbs in the midde of the forest. The beasts exhausted squaking was blood-curdling, and their breath filled the thick damp air with blasts of mist.

"We can make the Balaclavan line if we cut through these woods," a deep, huffing voice from the back of one of the Pecopeco's shouted. It came from a figure in thick verdune chain mail armor, the likes of which were usually seen worn by heavy cavalry of the Lateran front guard of Alberta.

The other rider just kept going, going through one thick foliage after another, careful not to hit the branches practically flying towards their direction at reckless speeds.

"We seemed to have lost them," the cavalier with the deep voice said with unblemished delight. "It was a good call to have escaped through this place, master. We'll be hitting the main road shortly." The wind howled back at the riders, seemingly to taunt their progress.

Countless whistles filled the forest as arrows tore through the evening mist. "Arrows! They're still following!" the other rider shouted with full Pronteran grace. "Double your pace, Pietro!" he commanded with authoritative conviction. The other rider kicked his beast with his stirruped boots as they sped some more.

The arrows started raining from above, pouncing like little imps spawning from hell itself. It landed on everything on and around the riders. One of the riders started slowing down and his ridingmate could only look back - but it was all too late. With a single grunt, the Pecopeco crumbled like weathered stone, its exposed wings laden with arrows and it's rider motionlessly slumped behind its back. What was left of the bird and the soldier landed on the ground with explosive force, sending dirt and dead leaves flying all over the place.

The other rider punched through a final set of shrubberies and landed on the dirt road his mate had been telling him. He was now all alone, with his pursuers appearing from behind as dancing red smears torches in the blackened woodlands.

"Damn it, they got Pietro too!" he howled as he lifted the visor of his casque. His moonshined sapphire eyes scoured for any signs of clearing. The bird he rode rumbled through the dirt track burned through the forest floor without any sign of stopping. "Now where am I supposed to go?" the rider irritatedly asked at some unseen counsel.

The rider peered through what light the holed canopies provided overhead - and with that he saw an unexpectedly surprising apparition. An old man standing at the middle of the road - unmoving and oblivious of his rampage. Move away, he wished to himself. The old man turned his head, and for one fleeting second their eyes met. The rider's heart stopped.

It was all too late - the man was real. With one full swing, the rider tried to veer his Pecopeco to the left and caused it to lose footing in confusion. The bird and its master tumbled across alongside the road, disappearing as quickly as the rider had appeared in the forest - just as so many have gotten lost in the thick forests of Payon.

Why Filipinos Don't Eat The Ends of a Tasty

Monday, January 15, 2007

In the olden days, whitebread, or Tasty as we know it today were baked vertically because of the spanish-style rack layout on brick "pugons" (open-fire ovens). The edges of the bread often touched the rather coalish surfaces of these racks as they were baked on their open-ended molds that were designed for expansion. The result would be that the color of the edges of the bread will be smeared with coal. As common sense dictates, people would slice them off and not eat them.

After the arrival of the Americans, the Bratford-Connolly(?) system was promoted for better baking efficiency, presenting horizontal mount racks instead of vertical ones, with the bread trays sealed on all four corners instead of two. The breakout of the second world war caused the destruction of the mostly antiquated spanish-era baking structures. It has even been reported that for some cases, the destruction of the old bakeries by Japanese occupying forces had been systematic - as rationed wheat was said to have been wasted on the older bakeries.

People however, have learned to stick with their ways and have long since forgotten why they have to avoid eating the edges of the common white bread loaf.

More recently though, there have been a lot of discussion regarding the actual efficacy of the spanish-style open-fire baking ovens and several novelty bakeries such as Pan de Raya in Tagaytay have started using the old method again, with more hygiene in mind of course. It's said that bread baked in such way contains more taste than the regular bread we are eating today.

The Tasty, to every bread, there's history.

Oh and yeah, 100% of what I said in this post is bullshit. Have a nice day.

How A Gentleman "Rolls"

Friday, January 12, 2007

More advice from Red, this time, it's live advice for a friend in need. (Because I'm friendly like that).

[17:06] friendwhoisanonymous: btw jet, gimme a place sa glorietta area na nde masyado mahal, and okay food for a treat
[17:06] redkinoko: whats your budget?
[17:07] redkinoko: bawal greenbelt?
[17:08] friendwhoisanonymous: um
[17:08] friendwhoisanonymous: 400? 500?
[17:08] redkinoko: anak ng jueteng
[17:08] redkinoko: per person yan?
[17:09] redkinoko: paps, libre mo na lang ako. kiss pa kita sa boobs.
[17:09] friendwhoisanonymous: nde
[17:09] friendwhoisanonymous: gago
[17:09] redkinoko: hahaha
[17:09] friendwhoisanonymous: 2 kame
[17:09] friendwhoisanonymous: i guess 300-400
[17:09] redkinoko: dinner, lunch, brunch, coffee time?
[17:10] friendwhoisanonymous: i dont have a job -_-
[17:10] friendwhoisanonymous: prolly dinner or lunch
[17:10] friendwhoisanonymous: break time
[17:10] friendwhoisanonymous: or uwian
[17:10] redkinoko: mexicali mga 200 per person sya usually
[17:11] redkinoko: but it's not exactly classy, exotic lang
[17:11] redkinoko: favorite ni alex yun though
[17:11] friendwhoisanonymous: hhmm yeah
[17:11] friendwhoisanonymous: i know
[17:11] friendwhoisanonymous: but i love those nachos and buritos
[17:11] redkinoko: rice meals are good too
[17:11] friendwhoisanonymous: ^___^
[17:12] redkinoko: hmmm
[17:14] friendwhoisanonymous: i'm at a loss
[17:14] friendwhoisanonymous: haha
[17:40] redkinoko: okay, spaghetti house is okay, if you want sharing, north park or gerrys.
[17:40] redkinoko: if you have a death warrant, go bubba gumps
[17:41] friendwhoisanonymous: hahaha
[17:41] redkinoko: ah pare
[17:41] redkinoko: I KNOW
[17:41] friendwhoisanonymous: north park
[17:41] friendwhoisanonymous: chinese food
[17:41] redkinoko: exotic, delicious and cheap
[17:41] redkinoko: Dusit Thani
[17:41] redkinoko: lololol
[17:41] friendwhoisanonymous: wtf?
[17:41] friendwhoisanonymous: havent eaten there before
[17:41] redkinoko: but you know the place?
[17:42] friendwhoisanonymous: not really
[17:42] friendwhoisanonymous: haha
[17:42] redkinoko: tapat sya ng glorietta elevator 2nd floor
[17:42] redkinoko: right beside oliver's super sandiwiches
[17:42] friendwhoisanonymous: glorietta what?
[17:43] redkinoko: the elevator in the glorietta activity center
[17:43] redkinoko: it's in the middle of the fucking place. you cant possibly miss it. (there's a huge swatch watch beside it)
[17:43] friendwhoisanonymous: so what's the menu like there?
[17:44] redkinoko: There's Phad Thai noodles - you can order one and share kayo.
[17:44] redkinoko: But I'd recommend Tomm Yum Goong (shrimp lemongrass soup)
[17:44] redkinoko: and Chicken Satay
[17:44] redkinoko: The Tomm Yum Goong isnt even 100 pesos and is good for two people
[17:45] redkinoko: Then there's the satay, im not sure how much it costs but it's not too expensive either
[17:45] redkinoko: 6 sticks yun each
[17:45] redkinoko: prepare some Thai-landerish anecdotes for your friend before hand
[17:45] redkinoko: like how the Tom Yum originated
[17:46] redkinoko: or the white elephant of the king
[17:46] redkinoko: make sure you mention Yule Bryner and "The King And I"
[17:46] redkinoko: always smile even if you accidentaly bite something spicy
[17:46] friendwhoisanonymous: dude its not a date
[17:46] redkinoko: do NOT spit anything back
[17:46] redkinoko: a gentleman considers every meal as a form of entertainment for whoever he dines with
[17:47] redkinoko: he is expected to keep the atmosphere uplifting, and the food at a constant temperature by staring at it for prolonged periods of time
[17:47] friendwhoisanonymous: hahahaha
[17:48] redkinoko: then for dessert, order ka ng thai pudding
[17:48] redkinoko: i forgot what it's called, but there's a picture in the menu and it looks like puto
[17:48] friendwhoisanonymous: so expected total damage would be?
[17:48] redkinoko: it's actually Maja Blanca on bananaleaves and is absolutely delicious
[17:48] redkinoko: if im not mistaken, your bill wont reach 500
[17:49] redkinoko: specially if you're eating out with a timid girl
[17:49] redkinoko: just keep 100 extra to be on the safe side
[17:50] redkinoko: a gentleman also tips after a meal. he discretely places the tip on the bill tray and clasps his hand
[17:50] redkinoko: and says "gracias mio indio."
[17:50] friendwhoisanonymous: maybe i should try dining there first
[17:50] friendwhoisanonymous: para mejo alam ko
[17:50] redkinoko: lol what's this densha otoko?
[17:50] friendwhoisanonymous: hahaha
[17:50] redkinoko: JUST FUCKING EAT MAN
[17:50] redkinoko: tell her it's also your first time there
[17:51] redkinoko: tell her a man with a throbbing gargantuan cock recommended the place
[17:51] redkinoko: dude, honesty. it's so rare nowadays, women find it attractive.
[17:51] friendwhoisanonymous: what is rare?
[17:51] redkinoko: HONESTY
[17:51] redkinoko: you gotta be true to yourself, you gotta tell her no lies
[17:52] redkinoko: and you gotta make sure you only slap when she's asking for it in bed.
[17:52] redkinoko: that's how a gentleman "rolls"
[17:53] friendwhoisanonymous: tangina stop giving me dating tips
[17:53] friendwhoisanonymous: its not a date
[17:53] friendwhoisanonymous: lol
[17:53] redkinoko: tangina mo rin. keep lying to yourself like that and you'll find yourself jumping out of a building thinking youre a superhero.
[17:53] redkinoko: "tangina stop giving me tips for humans."
[17:53] redkinoko: "im not human"
[17:53] redkinoko: "lol"
[17:54] redkinoko: oh and yeah, we're chatting before a live studio audience. This will appear on my blog.


[17:55] redkinoko: soooo
[17:55] redkinoko: now for the more interesting part
[17:55] redkinoko: who's the lucky guy?

Kidding aside, Dusit Thani is a pretty cool spot. It's not exactly the classiest place in town but it delivers when it comes to bang for the buck. I'll probably post more tips from "Redkinoko's The Perfect Gentleman's Guide To ..."

Yeah, even the title's not finished.

Because Stupidity Hates Company

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Yesterday I told you how to fake resume entries. Today, I will teach you how to read fake ones. Remember, we're on the absolutely rational assumption here that all resume's are 90% made of lies and 10% made of half-truths. I took a sample resume from some online help centre for our analysis, just so I don't have to expose some douchebag's con (see? I'm friendly afterall).

Redkinoko, HR Manager (comments in red)
--------------------------------------------

RICHARD ANDERSON
,

1234, West 67 Street,
Carlisle, MA 01741,
(123)-456 7890.

OBJECTIVE

To work for Internet based firm in web developer capacity.

At this point, your bullshit meter should be warming up already. His missing articles and ambiguous usage of words indicate that he's not concentrating while making this, because he was probably surfing for porn at the moment. All web developers tend to pickup that habit.

Ideal position would provide exposure to various design projects in different market segments, (i.e. corporate, e-commerce, etc.).

Translation: A work with internet access is the best.

Will trade creative mind and valuable technical skill set for position with advancement possibilities and career guidance.

By creative mind he probably means "stealing office supplies in a way you won't notice" and DoTA is probably a technical skill set nowadays.

ACCOMPLISHMENTS
  • Developed personal web page (http://www.mysite.com) for regional design contest. Awarded most creative use of audio integration by New Jersey Web Developer Society. (Translation: My website has Eminem playing in the background. Hire me if you like eminem.)
  • Worked through college by contracting web design projects for Central New Jersey area clients. Created pages for area legal firms and medical practices. ( By area legal firms and medical practices, he probably means mafia syndicates and abortion clinics.)
  • Donated abilities and time to area not for profit entities that required technical abilities in creation of web pages. (area not for profit entities, if that means nonprofit orgs, is probably some messageboard that contains anime porn) Focus was primarily to distribute data. (one word: piracy) However, I did implement on line contribution ability and follow up email programs for prospective contributors. (two words: piracy promotion)
CAPABILITIES
  • Proficient in various web design programs including HTML, Adobe PhotoShop, Shockwave, Dreamweaver, Perl, FrontPage and others. Extensive use and knowledge of end user programs and browser integration problems for web page design. (Translation: I have the following skills: I can press F1 for help, I can read English, and I can Google)
  • Experienced graphic illustrator and designer. (Translation: I like vandalizing walls during my spare time. I also do designer drugs.)
  • Hardware and software abilities. Knowledge of LAN technology with experience on various platforms including Windows 95/98, NT, Novel and Unix. (Translation: I like playing network games.)
  • Excellent planning and communication skills. Natural presentation and sales skills, particularly in areas of technical data and e-commerce issues. (Translation: CTC? ASL? WANNA CYBER? I PUT ON MY ROBE AND WIZARD HAT.)
EMPLOYMENT HISTORY
Theresa College, Brookdale, NJ
Computer Room Assistant, 1999 - 1999

Managed computer room for college students. Required to perform various help desk and management duties as well as assist in myriad project assignments for computer animation courses. ("I are teh press teh power buttons". Myriad isn't a word used by real nerds. Well maybe homosexual nerds, but don't be too optimistic.)

Betasearch.com, Inc., Bound Brook, NJ
Intern / Web Developer, 1998 - 1999 (See employment date? He caused the catastrophic collapse of the WWW bubble economy.)

Assigned various duties including web page maintenance and design of Betasearch home page. Assisted programmers in implementation of video and imagery onto site as well as text editing on line and on line sales inventory. Helped implement Betasearch referral programs and establish product order form page.(I copy paste content onto our page. I can also use the computer keyboard. Neat huh?)

EDUCATION
Tyler University, New Hope, PA
BA, Computer Animation, Minor: Graphic Design, 1999
GPA: 3.5, Major GPA: 3.2. Various web page design and graphic design projects. Winner of multiple design awards in chose field among peers. (Translation: See, here's the thing, this may look like a sucky resume, and I'm probably lying more than Bush on Iraq, but I still got awards during college, so chances are if you're going to hire somebody else, you still won't be better off. What you can do instead, is just hire me and save time and money by being able to realize how much of a useless tard I am earlier - so you can fire me sooner than other candidates.)

See? That wasn't so hard now, was it? I should've been an HR manager.

Good Resume, Bad Resume

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Okay okay, so maybe not everybody reading this blog is working already. But for those who are working already, I'd like you to take a look at your resumes and see how much of that is actually a wad of lies. Sure, maybe most of them are based on true facts but if you check harder, you'll realize how much padding they've already received just by being "phrased in a good way". Like photoshopping pictures of ugly you. Well, I'm not really going to criticize that, since lying to get hired is a given already and everybody probably does it in one way or another.

What I will do, however, is to at least even out the field by giving more ways of turning that resume into the bibliography of a million-dollar superathlete genius who is the direct offspring of a greek God. If you're doing a bad thing, you should at least do it good enough for it to be worth the risk of getting caught, right? So here's my short examples of of the good, the bad, and the unhirable.

Bad Resume Entry:
Failed board exam but with relatively high grades.
Good Resume Entry:
Satisfactory high grades; pending first board examination.
(protip: If at first you dont succeed, it never happened.)
Get-What-You-Want-Now Resume Entry:
Due to the my academic performance, the PRC has decided that I should skip the Board all together, because I might ace it so badly, they'd lose their credibility in testing new engineers.

Bad Resume Entry:
Last place in a four-school intercollegiate Computer Programming Contest.
Good Resume Entry:
Inter-University Programming Competition Semifinalist.
Get-What-You-Want-Now Resume Entry:
Entered Inter-University Programming Competition but won the Nobel Prize instead. The judges of the competition ruled the presence of another award-giving body within the competion as outright cheating. After a long legal battle, an out-of-the-court settlement was reached and it was decided that we would have to settle for a fourth place and have our names placed in the Nobel list of unsung winners instead.

Bad Resume Entry:
In charge of logging minutes for corporate meetings I'm not even assigned to.
Good Resume Entry:
Brainstorming session facilitator, ensures proper influx of thought paradigms across the organization.
Get-What-You-Want-Now Resume Entry:
Undercover anti-communist propaganda auditor for national security service comissioned by company president to monitor all activities while posing as lowly company secretary.

Actually, you dont have to go overboard with the lying. Getting the job this way won't be hard. It's the "keeping the job" part that'll get tricky. You dont want your boss going "HEY, I THOUGHT YOU COULD TYPE TELEKINETICALLY!" after catching you touch typing when he's supposedly not looking.

But maybe I'm just looking too far into the future. Sorry, I kinda told my employers I'm Nostradamus in my previous life. (and I'm not even into reincarnation LOL!)

Okay, this is one messed up post.

But, since we're all for balance here, we'll be offering you defense against stupid resume entries like these. Tomorrow: How to read Resume's like a pro.

Red Says

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Some poster from Pex:

I have a classmate na beautiful and popular kaya lng she's such a *****. She's friendy towards everyone. pero you can feel na some of her actions are fake and sarcastic ung mga hirit nya.

I tried to ignore her na, but mas lalo nya akong hiniritan, and nagpaparinig lagi lol! i mean super mang-mata and girl na to and kahit konting bagay lng hanap sha ng way para laitin ka.

Annoying na talaga, ayaw ko naman patulan kasi i'm a guy and no one will back me up kc and i don't really have close friends sa school namin cause i'm more of a loner and just wait for the class to end then go home.

Any advice?

Red Says:

Pee on her. Though largely untested, I have a going theory that any girl can be turned straight after you urinate on them. Varying areas where the urine lands can garner different results.

Try mo lang. Even if it's not as effective as I hoped it to be, I'm sure you'll feel much better about yourself after that. (unless you have kidney stones, in which case I'd just give a sad face

He Replies:

You're crazy!

Red Says:

And you'll never know until you try. Start with drinking lots of liquid and practicing your aim.

So there you have it. Another soul saved. Heaven, here I come!

Fun With Chopsticks

Monday, January 08, 2007

Chopsticks are probably one of the most messed up tools on the planet, next to eyeball massagers. At least for the eyeball massager, they haven't been in use for around 200 years already. Chopsticks on the other hand are here to stay, causing more muscle spasm for generations to come. Am I the only one seeing the problem here?

First of all, why? It's a stick. Well, two sticks. What's so f'ing practical about that? After researching the origin of the chopsticks, I found out that according to archeological finds, they've been in use as early as 3200 years ago, first as primitive wooden implements to "prod" food being cooked in the fire. 3200, years later, the chopstick has developed into the primitive wooden implement we use to "prod" food being cooked in the fire today. *palm to face*

I have a theory of how this all started. Two chinese cavemen by the fire got bored (because let's face it, getting broadband and downloading bootlegged movies with funky chinese subtitles at that time was just f'ing impossible, you know what I mean?). Okay so they got bored and the conversation went something like this:

Pinpin: So when's our PS3 coming?
Lingling: In about 3202 years.
Pinpin: Damn. I'm bored.
Lingling: Is the food ready?
Pinpin: *Pokes roasting meat with stick* No.
Lingling: Hey I have a good idea for kicks.
Pinpin: What?
Lingling: What if we poke the meat with two sticks instead of one?
Pinpin: What's the difference?
Lingling: It's more challenging.
Pinpin: *holds two sticks together and pokes* No, it's not.
Lingling: Okay, try originally using a single stick and break it into two sticks and then hold the two sticks in the most fucked up way possible and try picking up shit using the two sticks. Betcha can't do that.
Pinpin: Oh yeah? Let's see you try. First person to get tired of this arrangement is gay.
Lingling: Prepare to be the world's first homo, caveboy.

Those two cavemen eventually died of starvation because no matter how hard you try, it's just impossible to eat a giant slab of dinosaur meat with just two sticks. Hence the archeological find. The rest of the cavemen found the test of manliness rather sporty, so the legacy of the chopsticks lived on.

So maybe we all make mistakes. We have to start somewhere. But what I don't get is why people still think it's still fucking "mod" to be using chopsticks when we already have invented the spoon and fork. It's like having cars already and then some people just go, "I think I'mma ride this stegasaurus for a while.."

And it's not like the spoon and fork is such a radical new idea. A chinese farmer away from f'ing civilization will have at least a shovel and a pitchfork in his farm. Choo choo. Clue train coming, it's your stop! If chopsticks are so damn effective, why aren't you using giant versions of them to haul soil out of the ground?

And for the record, I do know how to use chopsticks. And if by some chance you want to learn how to use them too, the easiest way is to throw yourself in the middle of China where asking for a spoon and fork without knowing their native tongue is harder than asking for democracy. Use the sticks or die of starvation - there are just some things that are easier to learn when your life's depending on it.

Maaan I hate chopsticks. Even the name's wrong. Those things can't even chop.

A Message To My Comrades

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Okay, I just have to say this now. To the guys, know your role when it comes to women who tell their problems to you. I won't meander. Your role is to just listen. You don't need to act like Mr Fix-It. Contrary to what your manmeat (upper) is telling you, they're not as helpless at they look. Do NOT underestimate women. In doing so, they gain the advantage of surprise and you'll end up overexposing you more than required.

Ever wondered why even though you try to find possible solution to the problem of a distressed girl, and the solution seemed to be simple and sure enough, they never seem to find your advice practical? That's because that's not what they want. The just want you to listen.

Fixing problems for others will please your fellow men, but it won't get you in any better a situation when it's a girl venting on you. When a woman tells you her problem, she doesn't really want advice. It may look like it, but that's not what she REALLY wants. She just wants somebody who'll nod to whatever she thinks and say "uhuh" a lot of times. Trust me on this. Whatever advice you give or help you offer, it wont count as much as a single "uhuh" or "im with ya on that."

I understand if you find the urge to fix her problems to make her feel better. As a man, you're evolved to be a sophisticated tool user (pun not intended), so you can't help but use what you know works best to get you through in a problematic situation. Like if the spear works on tigers, the cave man thought maybe the spears will also work on their fellow cave men. Same idea here. So we try even if the problematic situation is just a woman who has her own trouble.

But women aren't as prone to spears as you may think.

Don't do it. Just listen.
-----------

(Sorry if this is senseless, I just have to vent out. )

In other news, I'm semi-broke again. I ended up buying shit I wasn't even planning to get and ignoring shit that I was supposed to get. Now, how do I survive a couple of days without eating...

McDonald's

Friday, January 05, 2007

McDonald's are like real-life "save points"* for travelling tourists. I don't know how to stress hard enough the importance of these establishments when you're on another part of the planet. Here are the usual issues of travelling in another country when you're alone and well, underinformed regarding local culture:

- You can't read anything.
- You can't talk without being misunderstood.
- You can't wander around too much because you might get lost and since you have the first two problems in hand, chances are you wont be able to do something about the "being lost" part either.
- Ordering food is always something akin to Fear Factor, since you'll never know what you're getting yourself into.

The two most common problems a tourist usually encounters when in another country is the same problem the neanderthal encountered when he appeared on earth some gajillion million years ago: lack of food and lack of porn. I was just kidding about the latter - man will always be inventive enough to overcome that (google: cave paintings). So anyway, here's the problem: you're basically hungry and you dont know where or what to eat, and if you do get the chance to order, the food might be bad for you or your finances or your reproductive system (maybe, who knows).

That's where McDonald's comes into play. Here are the benefits a foreigner gets from having a McDonald's branch near him:

- McDonald's has the universally recognizable symbol. The golden arch logo is a beacon that's more easily recognized than the red cross. To prove that it's more universal, if you go to the middle east, there's no red cross. It is replaced by a red crescent. Meanwhile, the McDonald's logo stays the same. So if you're travelling in some godforsaken alien country and you see it, you can say to yourself "Ah yes, McDonald's. Now I can rest." You don't have to know how to read in a foreign language. You know it's McDonald's just by the logo.

- The menu items and taste almost always never changes. The Big Mac in the States will more or less taste the same as that in Saudi Arabia. There will always be a Quarter Pounder on the menu (except in India, where it's forbidden to it beef. So they put human flesh instead - but they go out of their way just to make it taste like cow, which begs the question why cow is such a hard meat to eat in a country where half of it's population is already starving to death.) And the fries will always taste like fries. So as long as you're eating in a McDonald's, you can at least guarantee your tongue that you're not going to be playing hit and miss with the taste. Sure it won't taste too good, but at least you know how bad it gets already. Note that I did say "almost always" because when I was in Japan, McChicken became Chicken Tatsuta Sandwhich, which is basically seaweed, kelp and dead, undercooked chicken in a sandwich. Those sick people. Why did they have to call it something else when it tastes the same?

- The food items almost always are called the same. Well, not really. The pronounciation can be very different all over the world. But it's most certainly easier to order at McDonalds than to order a "lopangkauratatingpaktol" in the nearby thai restaurant and get the head of a dead moose on a soup bowl. The accents are not too different anyway. Like Mexicans call McNuggets "McNogads" or Arabs call Cheeseburgers "Yisberger yalalalah! Jihad! Yalalalalalah!" (just kidding, they dont yell that twice) but you get the idea most of the time. You already know what to order and they understand you. I said "almost always" again because of the Chicken Tatsuta example.

- Lastly, McDonald's almost always has restrooms. Unless you fancy peeing on the streets with your trousers on and you're zipper zipped up, this is always a blessing for the desperate tourist. I cant count how many times I've seen people saved from embarassment because of this feature.

McDonald's is a save point because it saves.

Now I'm not sure about the solution to world peace. But if ever there's a call for a unified government that transcends all borders of colors and ethnicity, I wouldn't be looking at the United Nations for a working pattern. I'd take a look at McDonald's and say

"Sig Heil! Sig Heil! Sig Heil!"


*In case you're old, technophobic, old-fashioned, amish, or just plain stupid, a "save point" is a term used in video games where you are able to save/store your the progress of long games such as role playing games so even after you have switched off the console, you will still be able to fail where you last failed. In some games, this is also where you can get your game life replenished. Public Static: Saving the world one idiot at a time.

In The Land Of The Chinese

Thursday, January 04, 2007

(subtitle: There are Chinese in the land)

I was in a meeting today with several Chinese co-workers. At first it was cool, you know, I'm Filipino, they're Chinese - we all like rice, and we're talking in English. Like a mini United Nations minus the I-are-nuclear jokes. Sure, it's not really English as we know it. Some articles, pronouns, and prepositions may have been murdered in the process, but at least we're getting some information through.

Then this one guy entered the room. After a few minutes of struggling to talk to the other Chinese in English while trying to explain a point, I saw this one glint in his toothed smile that was requited by the other chinese, sorta like what you see when two gay pro wrestlers find each other a good match.

Then all hell broke loose.

What followed was some rapid fire Chinspeak that probably clocks faster than the processor of this PC. It's like the two suddenly supersaiyan'ed from 4 English words per minute to 10 Chinese essays per minute. After a while the rest of the chinese started speaking chinese too, rapid fire. I started thinking I was in the middle of a verbal warzone. Listening more carefully, I swear I could hear a Chinese beersong somewhere in the lingual orgy they were having.

I tried getting topic-related English words from their words but to no avail. It's like one minute we're talking about program requirements in English and the next moment, they're reciting chants from the f'ing Mahabarata. Occassionally I'd hear English words, but those that're completely out of topic. Imagine hearing something like:

Person1: Do tsei la. Poha poha. Unghou kao ma.
Person2: Ting ma tan lei, Shau kei wan po?
*SILENCE*
Everyone: (in Unison) BENITO MOUSSOLINI!
*Drunken Revelry*

And THEN they occassionally look at me and give me this crazy look, like they're waiting for my ACKNOWLEDGEMENT. Acknowledge what? Oh man, it felt like trying to write a movie review for a Korean film whose crappy subtitles died off midway. I had to stab my leg twice with a pen to quell my urge for violence.

After about two hours of me pretending to understand whatever they were talking about, they finally got all their heads nodding in agreement. So I asked my seatmate what they've been talking about for the last two hours. To which she replies:

"They say it's ok."


(This little article is actually based off a section of a stand-up routine I'm working on. I'll upload a vid later. By leater, I mean, whenever I feel like it. Anyway, laterz.)

Terror Schmerror

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

I was at the airport again today. There I was getting all of my belongings/bodily cavities examined like I'm already guilty as a terrorist running for office when I saw a security officer confiscate what appeared to be a white bottle from a lady with almost full-white hair. In case you've been living under a rock or have been too stoned to actually care, liquids are banned now in carry-on luggages. That means you can't bring in anything that contains liquid with you, save for any contents you can stash on your digestive tract.

So anyway, the security officer explained the reason. The old lady, with a worried docile face that you'd expect in old people (along with the funny smell of soil) argued that it was her medicine. The officer insisted that she cannot carry it on, and almost had this "suck it up!" look. I didn't hear the rest of the conversation but I'm thinking one of the lines from the officer would sound like this:

"Sorry lady, it's either us who'll die from terrorism or you from lack of meds. I don't think terror attacks are covered by insurance so..."

I'm thinking, what's that about? I mean, if people on the plane let themselves get hijacked by somebody as old as that granny, using nothing but a bottle of prescribed medicine, THEY DESERVE TO DIE. I'd personally cheer whoever can do that on from the bleachers (or the wing tip, where applies). Snakes on a plane? No wai. Grannies with meds on a Plane. Now there's your real terror.

This so called war on terror is getting more and more ridiculous by the moment. We tried to banish terror with our motives - all we did was banish common sense.

Red Recommends

Monday, January 01, 2007

I've done several reviews for films here. Actually, they're not really reviews. They're more like passing mentions of really sucky films that keep on reminding me why I shouldn't be watching movies in theaters. Well, I guess it's time to change that. For this post, I want to recommend a movie that I can be branded with Red's Quality Seal of Approval (it's somewhat similar to an Oscar, less formal, but theoretically just as presitigious). For the first RQSA, I'll be giving it to:


In case you don't understand French, the review above basically says "If The Lord of War were shown 70 years earlier, we wouldn't have lost to Germany." And if the French who pride themselves in nothing but taste can say that, Lord of War is definitely something already.

The story can be best described with just one quote from the film's screenplay:

There are over 550 million firearms in worldwide circulation. That's one firearm for every twelve people on the planet. The only question is: How do we arm the other 11?

And that's basically what the film is all about. Arms dealing, as seen by the narrative experiences of protagonist Yuri Orlov, an arms dealer specializing in dealing Russian arms to almost every major conflict in the world.

The plot does not meander, like how real men tell their stories.

I won't go on fully reviewing why this film kicks much ass. I'd just be wasting time you could be spending watching this film. Forget The Godfather and the pansy boxing scenes there. Lord of War delivers. Here's a short list of reasons why you should watch it:

- Guns, Drugs, Prostitutes, Black Presidents.
- Child soldiers.
- Enough quotes to make the guy who invented quotes orgasm to his death.
- Nicholas Cage get shot. Twice if you have a broad definition of the word shot.

Actually, you don't need any more reasons than the one that counts. The film requires you to use your brain while watching. That should be enough.

Now stop reading this and go watch already.

(oh if in case you're wondering why I havent been updating, that's because I'll be going to HK again for two weeks this coming tuesday and I have a lot of things to fix before I go)
 

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