Uh, No Thanks.

Snapped this at a convenience store in the Philippines. Yeah, if you can't "garantee" that whoever wrote the copy of your product can spell the most important word in this 3-word phrase, then I don't think I'd feel "garanteed" that your knife's gonna be sharp. So, no thanks.

Kids are Adorable

They really are...and they're making quite a sensation in YouTube. Gotta love the British accent on them!

I'm a sucker for freebies, but this one just pissed me off.

I got this in the mail today. I know, I'm getting myself ready to get bombarded with shitty spam mail.Enthused, but not really excited (supposed "free" gifts usually follow a gift-with-purchase scheme), I opened the envelope.

Lo and behold, I got this. And I couldn't be more in-fucking-sulted at how crappy this free gift is. People, I get magazine subscriptions, electric razors, cookies, body washes, pretty much things that I have good, measurable use for on a regular basis. And you fucking give me this handy pocket calendar? What the fuck?

I think I've never hated a freebie in my life until I got this. Pissed off, I tore off the entire mail and ran it in the shredder. Yes, including this handy, wallet-size calendar that's their FREE gift to me.

After it, though, I felt a whole lot better.

Anyone Up for a Smoke?

While on the street today, minding my own business, this lady stops me dead on my tracks. (She was huge!) I thought for a second that I'm gonna get mugged (she was huge!) but was a little surprised when she said to me “Can I have a cigarette?”

It's funny—I don't smoke (never have) and there's nothing in my gestures that say that I'm a smoker. I was merely puffing frost breath in funny ways on a cold, damp New York day.

Then again, that's probably what got her to thinking that I did smoke. At any rate, I shrugged and said that I don't have any with me and proceeded to walk faster than usual. Hell, what if she went after me and actually carried out with the mugging? That would suck.

Kinda reminds me of beggars in the Philippines when kids would actually ask for a specific amount of money as their alm. “Kuya, pengeng sampu,” they would say. (It means “Sir, can you give me 10 pesos?”) Isn't the act of almsgiving supposed to be left to the discretion of the giver?

Meh.

I'm Sorry for Killing Trees

Sometime during the (current) length of my stay here in the US, I've amassed quite a number of magazine subscriptions. I was organizing my room one day and realized that, damn, that is a lot of subscriptions!

Some of them, I've paid for—publishing companies slash as much as 80 percent of the newsstand price when you subscribe—others I get from work, and others, well, I get them for free.

See for yourself. And there are 5 more that's going to start some time in November or December.
From top to bottom, left to right: Cosmopolitan, PC World, Men's Fitness, Town & Country, More, Wired, Maxim, Interview, Details, Psychology Today, Country Home, O, Organic Spa, Best Life, Mac World, Men's Health, Parents, GQ, Vogue, Seed, Sunset, Better Homes & Gardens, Metropolitan Home, Women's Health, Tennis, Country Home, Men's Vogue, Popular Science, and PC World.

Not photographed but am subscribed to: Esquire and EGM.

Due to start soon: Mac Life, Ode, Prevention, Men's Journal, and Shape.

With the exception of the women's and shelter/home decorating magazines, and Tennis (the first two I give to my mom, the last is for my Dad and uncle), I've read much of each issue. If there's one title among all these that I'm reading a lot more than others, it's Psychology Today. (Don't ask me why.)

Crazy, huh? But I like it—there's always something new to look at and read that doesn't take too much of my time.

Kristen Wiig is HILARIOUS!

This one needs no introduction. One of the funniest skits in the current season of SNL.

The Stuff Freaky Dreams Are Made Of

Have you ever had a dream so vivid, so remarkably familiar, so memorable that you swear that if you see it occur in real life, you’d be completely convinced that The Matrix really exists?

I had one last night, and believe me, it’s freakishly familiar.

I dreamt I was watching the 6th season of Bravo’s Project Runway. (Although, barring any more restraining orders and court orders, it will move to Lifetime for the said season; as well as head to Los Angeles from Parson’s in New York.) Well, not a complete episode. I just saw the runway show and the Q&A that follows after.

First, the runway looks exactly like the runway of seasons past. It’s still black, with a white sheet at the back that shows the silhouette of whoever’s behind it. The only difference is the Project Runway logo has been moved to the back of where the contestants are seated. (To the right of the TV screen.) There’s also the words “Los Angeles” below the PR logo. I don’t know why it’s there though.

There were only five people in the “show.” An unrecognizable judge that didn’t look like Michael Kors, Nina Garcia, or Heidi Klum; and Miley Cyrus (I’m guessing she’s the guest judge).

The remaining three were the models: The Jonas Brothers. They took quite a while modeling—they did fountains, one-after-the-others, moved all the way back, and then settled in the center for the Q&A. I said to myself, “Oh, cool, it’s a menswear challenge again.” But what’s so weird is that what the brothers were wearing looked exactly like the stuff they wore on a regular basis. (Those boys dress well—whoever their stylist is should get a raise.)

One Jonas, I don’t know the name, had to ask an assistant (I only saw a hand) to remove one very thick, very chunky scarf from his neck; because he came down on the runway with two. (In LA? Really?)

Then the Q&A. The judge was asking Miley what she thought of one of the Jonas’s ensemble. She said, “it’s not my thing.” I wondered out loud if Project Runway is now a stylist’s, not designer’s, competition.

Before I knew it, one Jonas was crying, then Miley was crying while saying undecipherable words, then before you know it, the other two guys were crying too. The judge was the only one who wasn’t welling up. I said, “Oh, come on!”

This was the time I woke up.

Secret Questions (from Jess)

You have to promise to answer them too, if you want to know the questions.

1. Jess S.
2. Diana M.
3. Josh P.
4. TJ R.
5. Ara F.
6. Nico A.
7. Ann Y.
8. Nina L.
9. Shayne G.
10. Bill R.
11. Miel V.
12. Diana M.
13. Georgina W.
14. Michiko H. / Marco B.
15. Lindsay L.
16. Nico A.
17. Aaron R.
18. Steph M.
19. Richard G.
20. Gabb D.
21. Jon M.
22. Brent J.
23. Carol P.
24. Carol P.!
25. Tanya G.
26. Raya P.
27. Miel V.
28. Anna R.
29. Karolina K.
30. I miss you / I really wanna have lunch with you / Can I pick you up at 7? / Let's hang out soon

Life's a Bitch Sometimes

Zip-a-dee-doo-da, zip-a-dee-doo...




What an awesome day. Nothing could go wrong...




Oh, shi...




Splat!

Welcome to My Life

I fondly remember a project I had to painfully endure in high school, for music class. Well, each one of us had to sing in front of everyone, with a song of our choice. Our grade was based on not just vocal prowess (which meant us guys with a less-than-appealing music box stuck in our throats already were in trouble) but on—curiously enough—showmanship. Meaning, you can suck at the singing part, but if you gesticulate wildly and act like it's a one-man show on Broadway, you can still walk away with an A.

I had delusions of grandeur, say the least, and opted for a mellow ballad, you know, so I could finish the song without my voice grating. The "What were you thinking?" moment came when instead of bringing in prerecorded music—which is what 95 percent of the class did—I chose to learn its chords on a freaking organ.

Note, before that project came into our laps, I had no idea how to play the organ, nor did I care enough to give it a try. My rehearsal was very mechanical, as if I'm memorizing Mathematical formulas (okay, this part, your fingers should be this way and touching this, this, and this key) because it was the best way I know how to learn to play without having to go through the basics. So when I eventually memorized the final set of notes for the very last word, I thought I was set.

But life being life, it never is that simple.

Let's just say that come "performance" time, I choked, panicked, forgot the lines, and worst, it was painfully obvious that I had no clue how to play an organ—and the people seated in the front row of the class knew and understood that fact all too well. I barely made it with a passing C grade.

After that fateful day, I squashed all hopes of learning to play a musical instrument; and vowed never to let my delusions of actually singing for an audience get the better of me.

If I would be given the chance to do it again, however, I would gladly sing the main lead's part in this video. But instead, I'll just have somebody else provide the music, and use the recorded material for the girl's part.

Warning: Lyrics contain profanity and adult subjects.

My Life According to Google

A real entertaining thing to do on a lazy Sunday morning, from Jess.

Type in the following and choose the first choice (that makes sense) that appears on the list

1) Type in "[your name] needs" in Google search:
-- Myron needs help.
(Nyahahaha! I'm going coo-coo!)

2) Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google search:
-- Myron, looks like the majority of the posters want you to take your messy message and, SHOVE IT!
(No thanks. No poster will ever be in the vicinity of my hiney bottom, thank you.)

3) Type in "[your name] likes" in Google search:
-- Myron likes to write
(Ah. My life.)

4 ) Type in "[your name] says" in Google search:
-- Myron says stop.

5) Type in "[your name] wants" in Google search:
-- Myron wants out pictures from dogs photos on webshots
(Photo album name, obvs.)

6) Type in "[your name] does" in Google search:
-- Myron does not have contacts at this time.
(I'm out of the social networking loop.)

7) Type in "[your name] hates" in Google search:
-- Myron hates renewable energy.
(Touché.)

8) Type in "[your name] goes" in Google search:
-- Myron goes into the stands and moves among the fans providing impromptu comedy
(Ooooh. As much as I'd like to think I'm good at improv/impromptu, I really honestly would rather be a spectator (and hopefully not the focus of the attention of the ones doing the sketch).)

9) Type in "[your name] loves" in Google search:
-- Myron loves mom Dog T-shirt
(Heh. It's not enough that guys get "I love mom" tattooed on their 'ceps, now we gotta subject dogs to this, too.)

10) Type in"[your name] is" in Google search:
-- Myron is a mild-mannered guy who drinks chocolate soda and until very recently lived at home with his parents in suburban New Jersey.
(This is _so_ spot-on, minus the mild-mannered part. Love choc'lit soda and I live with my 'rents in the suburbs of New Jersey. Cool!)

The 10 Things Every Filipino Must Do In America

I got inspired by a feature story from Philadelphia Magazine called “The 57 Things You Must Do In ______.” (There wasn’t really a blank in the article, it’s just that I forgot the place. Haha.) I decided to do my own list to I guess help me get reacquainted to life here in the US—I’ve been away from it for a while, after all. And for humor’s sake. (Well, I’m not exactly good at injecting humor at things.)

1. Get Supersized

Technically, the word “supersize” isn’t on the fastfood lexicon anymore, after the Morgan Spurlock movie “Supersize Me” got the attention of the fastfood-eating public and Washington lobbyists. However, even though Ronald McDonald and his gang stopped asking diners if they want to supersize their meals, the sizes of their french-fry container and soda cups remained huge. Look at the photograph below and guess what size the cup I’m holding is.

This is a medium milkshake, kids. I know. This is large in the Philippines.

Now, check this large-size drink cup from the movie house, expertly modeled by my younger brother. (Sorry, bro, gotta clip the image for your own privacy.)

The drink is $5, and you can refill it an unlimited number of times so long as you’re in the movie house. (Here in the US, movie houses are in separate buildings. They’re not inside malls like those in the Philippines.) Curiously, I unloaded a 2-liter bottle of soda when I got home just to measure exactly how much liquid the darn thing carries every time you ask it to be filled up. Guess what? It’s indeed 2 liters. Damn. Imagine, you just drank the equivalent of 1,000 calories if you finished a cup full of non-diet soda. (Even then, I still discourage you from drinking too much just because you’re getting the zero-calorie variety.)

By the way, the popcorn is also refillable. But if you’re like me, just looking at it already makes me feel full.

Update: Burger King’s big-ass fries and Coke now goes by the name “Kingsize.” Apropos, non?

2. Get brand-name clothing for pennies, convert the price to Philippine Pesos, and secretly brag about how much more expensive it would have been if you had bought it back home

This is what I love about the US: If you know where to look, you can get the best of fashions at prices that will make you think the sellers are practically giving it away. (And trust me, they don’t give you a hard time.) It’s actually easier to be a—dare I say it—budget fashionista (igh…hate the word “fashionista”) here than back home. I’ve done my fair share of shopping at department stores and outlets, and—ha!—I’ve been able to buy more brand-name clothing than if I would visit every store that SSI owned. Some notables (meaning, the best bargains that I’ve gotten so far):

A Kenneth Cole lined blazer for $20,

Paper jeans for $15,

and Converse shoes for $4.97.

True, it’s not fair comparing these to what’s on offer in the Philippines, as we’re talking about clearance merchandise here. But I offer a different perspective: Stuff on sale back home are either absolute crap, or could never retail as low as they do here.

3. Buy something—anything—from Old Navy, H&M, American Apparel, Abercrombie & Fitch, or American Eagle Outfitters.

These are the McFashions of the US, really; or if you prefer, these brands are to Americans as what Bench, Penshoppe, and Oxygen are to us. The appeal of McFashion to many vacationing Filipinos I guess is the fact that it’s virtually impossible to get your hands on them in the PI. (I doubt 90 percent of the supposed AE and Abercrombie & Fitch items sold in Greenhills are genuine.)

But here’s the kicker: Basics here are steep if you’re the converting type. To worth: A basic printed T from AE is $16.50 (about P660 at P40=$1), Bench offers the same stuff for about P300. Lesson learned: The moment you step foot in the United States of America, use your mental calculator sparingly when out shopping. Otherwise, you won’t buy anything.

(I have to mention this about American Apparel, though: They’re proudly sweat-shop free McFashion. Meaning, AA is the antithesis of some brands that outsource the production of their clothes where the cost of labor is next to nothing and the working conditions are debilitating.)

4. Fumble with communicating

We may be the third largest English-speaking nation in the world (or so the reports claim) with a booming call-center industry that houses hundreds of thousands of Pinoys with a fantastically perfectly-attuned twang, but this doesn’t translate to every Filipino being a fluid conversationalist in English. I mean, just look at me. Despite me coming from here, I still fumble. Man.

5. Sleep in pyjamas

Back home, it’s silly to wear jammies to sleep. Kahit naka-aircon. It’s still too hot and humid to cover up your legs. In here, you wear long cotton pants to sleep for 8 months each year. Otherwise, you’ll shiver your ass off.

(By the way, the US uses the Fahrenheit scale. The only time they use Celsius is when the thermometer hits 32 degrees F. They report it as zero-day to mean it’s zero degrees C.)

Part 2 coming soon!

Photo of the Moment

Hahahaha! That is all.