"I was in 7-Eleven yesterday, bought some bananas and this foreign guy cued behind me on the line smirked and said “You got monkeys at home?”. I was so pissed I answered back, “Yeah, most of them are white.” That shut him up."
— Jerome Lorico (via botherjoseph)
dancing traffic cop - this guy is figuring out a way to survive his long work day. This traffic cop in the Philippines brought a little MJ to the job
this is how I’m going to get through work tomorrow.
I love this dude. And Cubao in general.
Filipino drunks now have a new poster boy/patron saint in movie idol and paracetamol shill John Lloyd Cruz, who supposedly sent nasty text messages to Ruffa Gutierrez but actually:
Rejoice, Filipino men, everywhere. At last you can now rightfully claim that you are just like John Lloyd Cruz, if at least in terms of alcohol consumption.
Ingat!
My cousin’s girlfriend K says that she and her posse once spotted John Lloyd and Shaina hanging out at the table behind them in a swanky bar. Later in the night, when K and her chickas were taking photos of themselves, John Lloyd swaggered over and demanded they stop photographing him, and forced K and her friends to delete the photos from their camera. Which did not feature him at all.
Shaina apologized on behalf of her drunken beau. “Pasensya na,” she allegedly said, “nakainom.” Yun lang.
And for the record, I fucking love John Lloyd Cruz.
Yes, I realize that we shouldn’t persecute children for the sins of their parents. And I agree that sons and daughters shouldn’t be vilifed simply because they were born into the homes of tyrants and murderers and other evil things. But they shouldn’t be celebrated either. They shouldn’t be rewarded for their father’s infamy. We shouldn’t forget whose hands have raised them, whose horrible deaths form the footboards of their privileged little lives, whose money was stolen so they can deejay at clubs, and throw parties that intoxicate the brain cells out of other people’s skulls, and be educated at schools whose classrooms and hallways reek of tomorrow’s power.
I am so sick of this bullshit. I am so sick of seeing these faces in magazines and billboards, as if twenty-odd years under a brutal dictatorship that involved torture and rape and mass murder means nothing.
A few weeks ago, I saw a little headline in the paper, proclaiming Filipinos to be some of the happiest people on Earth. Our secret? We forget. Everything that hurts, we push into an amnesiac fog. We anesthetize ourselves by escaping into the soul-killing banalities of everyday survival. So we feast laughingly on the scraps of what should have been, prance about with yesterday’s war gashes on our limbs, dance in these tyrants’ shit without even our shoes. We need to move on, after all; we might as well do it with a little bit of mind-addling joy. Or at least that’s the home-brewed, self-patented rationale. But do you know what? This kind of happiness is the reason we never get anywhere. Dear gods, just look around. We smile with cut lips, and without our teeth, and we still refuse to remember that anything’s wrong. It isn’t right, and it isn’t real. And it certainly isn’t worth it.
(via misterdesantos)
The night is here / I need a drink…
I will dance / Amidst the smoke
And I’ll forget the filthy cruel evil war we foughtFavorite local dream pop outfit Arigato, Hato! performs “Hide the Drinks, I’ll Be Okay,” a dark and glittering ditty, at once commiseration and remonstrance for us drunkards.
Alcohol, dear friend / You’re not the best blend
Not the way to mend crumbled hearts and dead endsThis song and other equally lovely melodies are on their EP, which is out now. Pick one up, and raise a drink with the other hand. Local music lives on!
