Back to blood-spattered programming

It’s been a while since my last Dexter episode. Once I was so hooked to this show that there were times when I’d hear Michael C. Hall’s voice — that unique, deadpan drawl — in my head. But after season 4, which was awesome and best remembered for John Lithgow as a bad-ass serial killer, the succeeding seasons saw the series drifting south. Consequently, it drifted off my radar, too.

Episode 701

Secrets revealed: Debra and Dexter Morgan

Last Sunday night, however, finding ourselves with a DVD copy of the complete season 7 courtesy of my brother, Charmaine and I decided to give the series a whirl just for the heck of it. It only took two episodes for us to agree that the season has promise. Its Dexter vs. an organized crime this time, with sister Debra, who finally learned all about his “dark passenger,” providing distractions on the side. We hope we’ll not be disappointed.


Holy Week reflections (sort of)


Done with my Holy Wednesday shift, which means it’s the end of the workweek for me and many others. Although I still have to clock in my nine hours on Good Friday (because we at the news business have no real breaks, yo), it will be from home, so no biggie. I picture myself on our balcony, the netbook in front of me, perhaps a tall glass of orange juice beside it, fucking around the Internet more than working. Unless something big happened, of course. God forbid the president chokes on a fish bone that day and be rushed to the ICU.

On Maundy Thursday, however, I chill. TV, books, bike rides. Except for quality time with my girls, all are existential pleasures. So the question: How to attain such near-bliss — if not total bliss — on a spiritual level? The Adam Yauch tribute in Rolling Stone, which I had the pleasure of reading yesterday over lunch, seems to hint it’s by taking the Buddhist path (many Kerouac books also say the same thing). Henry Miller in The Air-Conditioned Nightmare suggests it’s by abandoning the city (and all the things it stands for) to the simplicity and beauty of the countryside. I see their point, and I believe them; I just don’t have the balls for such life-altering adventures for now.

For the meantime, I listen to Lux’s “Northern Lights” and daydream about the ocean.

Sunset photo here.

Full moon friends


Taken last Saturday, at Alan’s Grill in hipster haven Cubao Expo.

From left: me and my red face; Boojie the self-described antisocial media expert; Anna May, a reluctant celebrity blogger during the heydays of Multiply; and Marky, travel blogger slash photographer slash punk rocker extraordinaire. Marky and Anna May I met through Multiply, Boojie an ex-workmate and close book/beer buddy.

There should’ve been three more heads there, Reese and Grace and Lot, three girls with awesome spunk, but they had prior appointments (two of them celebrating their name day that day). We didn’t let the absentees cast a shadow on the long overdue meet-up, though.

Over buckets of ice-cold San Mig Light and crispy pata to die for we banged around several topics ranging from politics to rants vs. the iPhone generation to — courtesy of Anna May — near-rape experiences. It was a full-moon night after all, perfect time for wild stories.

Looking forward to the next session already.

Photo courtesy of Anna Mae and her trendy Prada phone.

Friday madness

Banchetto in Cubao: Outdoor sex party for foodies.

Here’s how awesome my Friday was:

  • Heavy traffic along Katipunan Ave. and in Cubao area on my way to work,
  • ATM card got blocked because I entered the wrong PIN thrice,
  • Long line at the MRT-Cubao station because of shortage of magnetic tickets,
  • MRT not selling stored value tickets because of said shortage of magnetic tickets,
  • None of my friends were available for some late-night drinks (the bastards!),
  • All the bars in Cubao were full and I couldn’t find a place to sit, drink, and celebrate the death of another work week,
  • People, people everywhere, all shapes and sizes and smell,
  • Long line of passengers at the FX terminal even at 10 p.m.
  • Big fat dude who sat beside me inside the FX thought I was his Uratex bed or something,
  • Heavy traffic along Katipunan Ave. and in Cubao area on my way home, and
  • Got soaked in the rain in Antipolo

The reasons: it was Payday Friday, the whole Philippines was having a three-day sale, traffic enforcers disappeared as soon as the sun went down, the entire Katipunan stretch became a car park for rich freaks getting wasted in the bars there, and the fact that this country is just so fucking overpopulated!

There. Glad to get that out of my system…