the mungo conspiracy

Three years ago, Christmas dinner plan was strictly to not spend more than 500 pesos. Baby was coming, any time according to the doctor, and I thought it unconscionable to spend more on Christmas dinner when money was really tight. Buy half an Andok's lechon manok, one order of pancit, one leche flan, and call it a night. Not really that bad -- all things considering. But surely it is not the Christmas dinner we see on TV - not the Facebook update worthy meal most people would deem acceptable for the occasion. It is Christmas -- half an Andok's lechon manok is, admittedly, kinda  depressing. But then I remembered what the occasion is all about. It is not a contest on how much money we can spend on useless shiny things to hang on our plastics trees, not even a contest on how much food we put on our tables -- it is the birthday of Jesus. How can anyone not be happy with that?

Wife wanted seafood for dinner-- so I killed a can of sardines. I thought that was funny. She thinks me sleeping on the couch tonight is funny.

Because we were four boys and one girl, growing up, we didn't really have much in the way of entertainment money. Imagine going to elementary school and being the only kid to have missed Star Wars -- the biggest blockbuster movie of all time. And this was back when movies were the only entertainment outside of TV, and you missed it. And not just Star Wars Episode IV, but two years or so later, the Empire Strikes Back as well. So yeah, I was that weird kid who never watched Star Wars and the Empire Strikes Back for a very long time. I had to wait for VHS tapes to catch up and find out for myself what was all the fuss about -- that would be almost 10 years after the original release. So it was a real big surprise then, I remember it being a Christmas gift to us siblings, 100 peso premiere tickets for The Return of the Jedi. Back when regular movie tickets was 7.50 or something, we had 100 peso guaranteed seating for the advanced special screening of The Return of the Jedi at the...

I should've invested in calamansi futures. There is none to be found in SM grocery. Sari-sari store is selling them for 5 pesos per 4 pcs. Your 20 pesos can now just purchase 16 calamansi -- that's 1/4 kilo just 3 days ago before typhoon Lando. How many pieces in a fourth kilo? I never bothered to count, but rough guess is twice 16 at least! Someone remind me to invest in calamansi next typhoon that comes around.  

Ever since that fateful day that that pregnancy test of my life partner came out positive, I've quit smoking -- to varying degrees of success. I've quit, but sometimes I cheat. That is, until I found the one effective way to finally quit cold turkey style. Every time I feel the urge to smoke, I've decided to substitute cigarettes with a quick prayer. Nothing elaborate, just me thanking God for my life and for giving us all oxygen. I tell you, sometimes the urge to pray is unbearable.

Please end your delusion that your singing cured cancer, solved poverty, or fed the hungry. You are also just an entertainer. KABABAWAN is your trade. You sing, people are entertained. That's it. Now get off your high horse and remember your "That's Entertainment" days when people were polite enough to not call you mababaw, corny, baduy.

I was born in the eye of the First Quarter Storm. I know what martial law is, but sadly, reading some ignorant comments on the internet and I've come to realize that the Pinoy Neo-Nazi equivalent, the Marcos loyalists, are spreading some nostalgic nonsense of better days under Marcosian rule. This is how it really was: George was a mid-level employee at the city hall. Nothing really important, he clocked in at 9 in the morning and then clocked out 5 o'clock right on the dot. He would then go home to his wife, Sally, a public school teacher who taught in the mornings and would have dinner already prepared by the time George reached home at 6. Life was good. The young couple was eagerly looking forward to building a family together. Until one day, Sally decided to get her hair done in a salon. There was already one customer being attended to, so Sally was made to wait. Patiently she waited her turn, reading some magazines to while away the time. Just when she was about to ta...

My wife can be a bit of a show-off. Her cellphone must be high-end not for high-end functionality sake but for brag-worthiness. She can't be left behind. She needs to have the best or nothing at all. Her dress must be perfect -- not really expensive, but perfect for the occasion. It gets me exasperated that she would shop for a dress for that one occasion that I do not even feel the need to dress up for. It gets me winded sometimes. And I should be pissed. Until I found out yesterday, meeting her family, it came to me -- I am one of the things she brags about.

Thanks to the all mighty internet, my two-year-old daughter has learned her abc's, colors, shapes, and a few animals. From my wife's cellphone, my daughter would Youtube on her own. No one really taught her how to move from one video to another -- she learned it all, intuitively, on her own. Yes, she inherited my genius gene (aherm). But my sister warns, that there could  be a negative effect to all this. There has been studies that suggest that children who have grown accustomed to the instant gratification of the virtual world are lacking in patience in the real world. While I can see the reasonableness of that contention, I see no danger in that ever happening to my unica hija. Being a Smart unlisurf subscriber, all that buffering ensures that my daughter learns the virtue of patience. Thank you Smart. My daughter hates you, but I know you are only looking out for her best interest.

Because of the traffic situation in Metro Manila that spills over now even to the nearby provinces, we Metro Manilans measure distance in hours and minutes, instead of kilometers and meters. I didn't realize this until a German friend/colleague pointed it out. On the long road trips we have to take, he'd always ask me how far away we are from our destination. And always I answer in hours and minutes, never 20 kilometers away or 10 kilometers away. Time is not a measure of distance, he'd always scold me with a wry smile. Well in the Philippines, it is. 2 kms away can also mean 2 hours away during rush hour in Metro Manila, sadly.

As a father with bills to pay -- if you are not awake at 3 in the morning trying to earn an honest buck, you are not trying hard enough.

Respect is not an action but a reaction. Be respectable and people will respect you. ------ And oh yeah, if you spell "po" with an extra h at the end, "poh", I assume that you are an idiot. Touchscreen phones, being so difficult to text with, has all but killed jejemon-speak. Only the "poh" remains. Still annoying AF.

My two-year-old daughter has the alphabet memorized -- and in proper order. It's almost perfect, except that she calls M as mmm, Q is coo, W is wow, and Y is yay. But the funny thing is only she gets to call them that. When she hands me the Y, and I say yay, she does not accept that and will only move on if I say "why". And rightly so, she is the baby not me. Only she gets to call it yay.

Whoever invented the fully-automatic washing machine, made it affordable for poor people like me, I believe deserve the Nobel Prize -- for whatever category -- Peace, Physics, Literature, it does not matter. Stay relevant Nobel, no one really cares about the "god particle". That my Sunday afternoons are now actually free, now that is something I really care about.

If ever the epal DOH Secretary decides to run for an elected office, that should be her honest political campaign slogan. No one is  more deserving a dose of her own medicine -- literally!

Bring back the death penalty! For starters the ultimate penalty should meted out for these crimes: 1. Taking 30 seconds or more to look for your atm card when you had 30 minutes in line to do it. 2. Jeepney drivers who slow to a crawl near the intersection so they can get stuck on one side of the highway to wait for passengers -- cars-behind-me-damned! 3. Pedestrians who cross the street within 50 meters of a pedestrian overpass and still choose to play pantintero. 4. People who pause to find their bearings right after the escalator -- move out of the way a55hole! 5. People who converse loudly on their phones while in public transport. 6. People who eat smelly food on public transport. 7. Politicians whose initials are all over that multicab. 8. Politicians whose last name is Binay. 9. Politicians whose name is Nancy Binay. 10. Politicians whose name is Jojo Binay.

Not really watching TV anymore, so much so that the fact Willie Revillame is back on Philippine slipped by me - just found out from an FB post of a friend. Perhaps it's old age, or the fact that I am now a father to a 2 year old -- I don't feel so violently outraged anymore. I am just thankful he is not running for anything in 2016. Let us all thank our lucky stars.

Just another random thought: Who else thinks that Mommy D. should dump that gold-digger of a boyfriend  and instead - after Pacman and Floyd finish their business in the ring, of course - date  Floyd Sr.? That would be Shakespearean of Romeo and Juliet proportions!

I was in a small boat tossing about in stormy seas. I was afraid -- very afraid. But it was not of drowning or even of that boat sinking. My wife was pregnant, and I had barely enough money saved up. Prenatal care expenses was negating whatever little extra I was making. And the extra money I had coming in via special project was cutting it a little too close -- it might not come through soon enough. What if there are complications? What if? So many what ifs. Then a calm voice spoke to me. He revealed Himself as the storm died down. He called me by my name and said, "Remember where I was born." My baby was born 2 months later, a healthy, all digits accounted for, child of God. She is 2 years old now and we are going to the zoo next week. Everything worked itself out fine. Life is hard. And I don't see it getting any easier soon. But we will manage. Everything will be all right -- in Jesus' name... Amen.

11 February 2015. My day began discovering that my 2-year-old had broken the stem off my reading glasses. No biggie really, it was just one small screw that had come loose that I can screw back on. But a catch 22 of sorts, I needed my reading glasses to screw in that teeny tiny screw with my pen knife -- not having precision tools on hand. Fumbling through the process, I stabbed my finger hard enough to draw a bit of blood. That hurt like a motherfvcker. A little while later, preparing lunch, I discovered that the wok that had been in the family since the 70's had finally given up and was leaking at the bottom. Quick trip to SM grocery to buy a replacement pan and my wife calls me to tell me that a Meralco transformer exploded and our whole block had no electricity. 3 hours and still no electricity, I struggled to prepare dinner in the dark -- then the LPG on my tank ran out. Later that night, as my electricity was restored, a fresh tank of LPG delivered, my finger band-aid...

Stuck in traffic, two girls walk in front of our car. Random thought -- na-aawa ako sa mga pangit. These two girls have done nothing to me, and yet why do I despise them so much? And I'm sure I'm not the only one. So yeah, if you're born ugly, you just lost big time in the genetic lottery. I would rather be born poor than be born ugly.

My 2 year old daughter loves balloon like nothing else. When we were at the Cyberzone, window shopping, while the wife was shop dressing at the SM department store, my daughter momentarily escaped from my clutches to rush a store. When I caught up, she was hugging the store display, a bunch of balloons strung up together. The balloons weren't for sale, naturally, that being a computer store. But the manager found my daughter so cute that she just had to give her one -- for free. So my daughter was happy. And I was happy that my daughter was happy. Happier knowing that the balloon was an unexpected gift from a complete stranger. On the ride home however, with all the shopping bags in tow, the balloon was just too unwieldy and got caught on a sharp object or something. So when we finally made it home, my daughter had nothing but the rubber remnants of what used to be a balloon she so adored. She was begging me to blow it up -- bring it back to life. But it was hopeless. There is...