I Am The Walrus

When Bad Things Happen to Good TV

2008-03-12T09:44:00.000-07:00

This is about a show. You probably have never heard of it. It only lasted one season in the US when stupid NBC cancelled it just because it couldn't bludgeon the equally moronic CSI: Miami.
I love this show. I've been working in television for nine years and watching this show pretty much sums up the lives of people in the network. It was also amusing for me that one of their episodes --- The Focus Group --- is about ratings and viewership, which is what I'm really in GMA for.

The name of the show is Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Look for it in youtube. There is a small cult following of very disappointed fans like me who, sure, got closure, but didn't get enough.

What was wrong with it? Was it the cast? Hell no. Matthew Perry and Bradley Whitford ---- two of the most amazing actors in Hollywood, with the rare gift of both perfect comedic timing and heart-wretching drama --- lead an equally talented cast which includes the lovely Amanda Peet and the amazing Sarah Paulson (You should see her in Down With Love. She is so wonderful). Bradley Whitford could bash the head of David Caruso with his Emmy. He is that good.

Was it the writing? Oh God, no. CSI? That's bad writing. I love CSI, don't get me wrong. But try watching four CSI episodes in a row then pop in The X-files or The West Wing and you'd think Gil Grissom was a retard compared to Fox Mulder. CSI is about the science of it --- it's like an encyclopedia being read by pretty actors. (Sigh. Carmine Giovinazzo.) But writing-wise, bad bad bad.

Studio 60 can match the writing genius of The X-files, The West Wing, even Prison Break. Although, admittedly, it wasn't for the moronic.

So what was it?

Let me just lay down the facts first, so you could appreciate the irony. Studio 60 is about a variety/gag show, like, say, Bubble Gang. It's head honcho flips out on TV and gets fired by the network so they had to bring in these two guys, Matt and Danny --- think of them as Bitoy and Ogie Alcasid --- who once left the show because they made fun of the war in Iraq and their network wanted them to apologize for it. But they refused. (If you're a Democrat, you will see the comedy in it. If you're a Republican then... don't talk to me).

So it's basically about these two rebellious guys who are complete geniuses in the TV biz but, sadly, have to follow the rules of the network. They didn't care about the ratings. They didn't care about the sister companies of the network. They didn't care about the advertisers. They just did their thing and gave funnies.

Sadly, Studio 60 didn't bring in the ratings because it was up against CSI Miami. In my mind, it was like putting up a show like I Witness against Wowowee. Even if I Witness outlines completely how we as a nation can solve poverty and our political crisis, even if I Witness features a full-length documentary on how our taxes are siphoned into the pockets of politicians, people are still going to tune into Willie Frigging Revillame.

Similarly, Americans are stupid that way ----- "Yay for Horatio Caine and the weekly boobage and the exploding trucks and airplanes, boo for a show that makes me think and has no sex in it" --- so they tuned out of Studio 60.

So there. A show about two guys who didn't care for the ratings got cancelled because of the ratings. Irony for dinner.

High rating shows pretty much defines the intelligence of a nation. In the US, the no.1 show during this time of year is American Idol. Here in the Philippines, it's Marimar. The X-files hardly ever made it into the top 10. I Witness, Born to Be Wild, The Beat, Balikbayan, hardly ever make it to the top 50.

You are what you watch.

Rumaragasang Baguio 1

2008-03-12T09:42:00.000-07:00

Let me begin with a longish -- but necessary -- prologue-slash-premise. The week before the Baguio trip had been hell at work. We were preparing for the crazy hectic albeit successful client party at the NBC tent. The morning before the party and the Baguio trip, I had to pack for both... the party and the Baguio trip. So I was lagging way too many bags for a typical Friday.

At the end of the party, I was too tired and too hungry to even care that Dennis Trillo was mere inches from my face a while ago (he was whispering something to me.... unfortunately, non-erotic). And I was also really close to cancelling my whole trip with (and remember, these will be their codenames for the rest of the blog) my friends: the girlish Spaghetti, the massive (and the only male) Pan Fried Chicken, and the plump Cheese Pancake. I was, after all, a text away. And all I had to say was "Omigod, my feet hurt, I haven't eaten, I haven't slept, please, please, please, don't make me go to Baguio!"

Which is another thing. I'm not too crazy about Baguio. My previous trips have been obligatory. I was, in essence, dragged around my nose for both trips, not being able to decide where and when to go. So when they said "Baguio", I wasn't completely sold on the idea.

But on the last minute, I said "Damn it, I deserve this trip. I have to get away from the city. And I need to not care about work for a while"

So when the party ended, I slung my three or four bags and headed for our meeting place.

Day 1
Forgive me if I fail to document the first five hours of Day 1. As my prologue had explained, I was practically a zombie by this time. All I remember is having to listen to "Careless Whisper" about three or four times, thanks to Spaghetti and her 80s CD. I also remember swearing a lot.
By the time I got to my senses, we were already at Hacienda Luisita for a quick coffee stop. There's an old train on display there so we took a quick photo op. I think.

When we were back on the road, I offered my mp3 collection of 90s songs which included great classics like The Sign by Ace of Base ("And it opened up my eyes... I saw the sign!"), End of the Road by Boyz 2 Men ("It's so natural .... you belong to me... I belong to youuuuu"), and every girl's favorite, the Wilson Philips classic "You're In Love" which Cheese Pancake said is best sung while crying. ("You're in love.... and I know... that you're not in love with me.... T*ngina!").

Our next stop: Razon's. I had arrozcaldo while my friends had halu-halo. At 9 in the morning. Which is completely against my principles even before I had started dieting. I don't know. Breakfast is just for hot food. I've always believed that.

You know you're already in Baguio when you've stopped at the Lion's Head. Of course, we got off the spanking new Honda Jazz that Pan Fried Chicken had been driving for hours, and posed beside the Lion's head for yet another photo op. But the monument was so massive that you can't have a picture of the whole head without us being reduced to mere centimeters in the picture. So instead of snapping a photo of the lion's head on our background, we got pictures of the lion's cheek, the lion's mane and the lion's nose.

When we got to Baguio proper, we did what every tourist would traditionally do --- get lost. We drove around town looking for our hotel, Pines View. "Malapit lang sa Session Road" the Pines View contact said over the phone. "Malapit" in Baguio lingo, is apparently equivalent to 10 kilometers. When we got to where Pines View was, it was obvious that the hotel was really near Session Road ---- by flying.

It was a good thing that Pines View Hotel didn't disappoint. Our room was spacious and clean with an awesome view of the city (and Session Road). The first thing I did --- since it's my job --- is to check if the reception of GMA is good in this area. And it is. When I went around the city the next day, a quick inspection showed that many of the people here are proud to be Kapuso.
Back to the hotel room --- my only qualm is that the bathroom had no tub. What a sacrilege! A hotel room without a tub!

After driving around Baguio for an hour, we decided to ditch the jazz and take a cab around the city. We had decided to have lunch at Behrouz which we saw on our way to the hotel. We had estimated that we can walk to the restaurant so we did.

When we got to Behrouz, it was closed. Wonderfrickingful.

Our alternative proved to be worth the Behrouz-disappointment.... Cafe by the Ruins. Cheese Pancake had frequented Baguio so the restaurant was at the top of her list of places to go to.
This lovely restaurant is, in fact, built on a ruined building. For appetizers, we had basil bread and camote bread, both of which were wonderful with the cheese and strawberry spread. For the main dish, Cheese Pancake, Pan Fried Chicken and Spaghetti had the tapa while I had the Ole Nick Open-Faced Tuna sandwich. One, because I didn't want all of us to have the tapa like college freshmen on the first day of school, and two, because of how the dish was described --- the great Nick Joaquin had invented said dish. It was a simple pan-fried bread topped with tuna sauteed in tomatoes. With a side dish of mustard, it was a healthy and filling little lunch.
As much as I was enjoying my first few hours in Baguio, my body was about to give up on me, screaming "Go to sleep, dammit!". So we went back to the hotel room and I passed out for a few hours.

Whatever happened during those hours, you can just ask those three...

Day 1, Night Time

We had debated whether to go to Camp John Hay in the dead of night after this morning's run-around so we decided to have dinner at the restaurant downstairs and have beer delivered to our room. As it turns out, keeping it simple can be a lot of fun.

The restaurant was wonderful. We had traditional fried chicken, really good chopsuey, brocolli in oyster sauce, and fresh fruits while playing the first game of the trip: Deal Breaker.

Deal Breaker is simple: Pan Fried Chicken (again, the only male) gives a guy's characteristic and we answer whether we would still pursue a relationship with this guy if we discovered said characteristic. Some of the options where the following:

1. If a guy is too rich
2. If a guy is too poor/a bum/has no money
3. If a guy has had a sexual encounter with another guy (we all agreed... get him checked first)
4. If a guy had been married
5. If a guy has childish hobbies like toys and comic books (sigh. we've all had that guy)
6. If a guy is a cheapskate (we all responded "No way!!!")
7. A foreigner guy (which we're okay with as long as he takes a bath)
8. A short guy
9. A guy who continues to be friends with his ex
10. A guy too good-looking for us

We took the game upstairs where we had beers.

Now, Pan Fried Chicken not only had the pleasure of introducing Deal Breaker to us, he also had the rare opportunity ---- being the only hetero male --- of answering a question every single girl is dying to ask: "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH US"

The discussion proved pretty long, having to dig up stories about our past relationships while talking about our current pseudo- ones. In summary, Pan Fried Chicken concluded the following:

What's Wrong with Spaghetti
1. Her father still takes her to/fetches her from work.
2. She lives really far

What's Wrong with Cheese Pancake
1. Her plumpness
2. Having a small circle of friends with no eligible men in it

What's Wrong with Me
1. I have a son
2. I have bad posture

There was one thing that was common among the three girls: "Magaling kayong mambara".

Well, ain't that a revelation.

But Pan Fried Chicken was quick to make a positive comeback via the Bozo Bit.

Now, what the hell is a Bozo Bit?

A bozo bit, according to wikipedia (that ever reliable source of information --- can you smell my sarcasm?), means completely disregarding the opinion of a person, a "Bozo", meaning whatever he says, even if it makes sense, you would completely disregard it just because of his reputation. I can name many people at work worthy of this tag.

Anyways, Pan Fried Chicken said "I can never think of you guys as a bozo bit". Which is a compliment --- if you get to know him --- that only Pan Fried Chicken could give.

We retired early, at 11 am, taking advantage of the nice cool Baguio breeze as I settled into the first real sleep I've had in days.

And then there's Day 2.

Dark Place

2008-03-12T09:41:00.000-07:00

There are days where --- for absolutely no reason at all --- I just turn into a goblin. You know how the Harry Potter books describe goblins? They're grumpy for no reason. Sometimes, I just wake up goblinesque --- no good deed of any of my friends can sway me from my indulgence of the anger-bitterness-self-pity cocktail.

I will ignore texts. I will set aside work on purpose. I will have lunch by my lonesome. I will not take calls. It's my way of preserving my friendships and other relationships --- just get out of my freaking way for one freaking moment.

But I think I'm all better now. Maybe it's because I actually had dinner

Scenes from a Parent-Teacher Conference

2008-02-05T08:21:00.000-08:00

Rooseveltian, Matthenian, Isko. I was a stuck up, grade-conscious snob in Roosevelt Grade School, a rebellious and hormonal teenager in St. Matthew's Academy and a laid-back, well-rounded mallrat in UP Diliman. Setting aside the fact that the University of the Philippines is undoubtedly and inarguably the best school of the country (haha, Atenistas and Lasalistas are fuming), I have always thought that Macho (nick for St. Matthew's Academy) was a better school than Roosevelt. I love Roosevelt, my friends there are intelligent and insane, but I had my share of tocino-peddling teachers. Really? In a private school? Yes.

Which is why there is no doubt in my mind where I was going to enrol my little Jacob.

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The speaker begins with the school's mission and vision. They say they "envision well-integrated individuals leading quality lives". I paused to think of me and my classmates and our neurosis and failed relationships and loser jobs and meager finances, all graduates of St. Matthew's Academy.

Guess they failed with us haha.

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The speaker then cites that since prayer is not taught in the US, their values have deteriorated.

"Kaya nangyari ang 7-11".

I bit my lip. (Then texted my friend about it haha). Was she talking about the dangers of Slurpees?

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RIght around the fourth mission and vision, I have tuned out and started texting my friends Extra Rice and Amazing Aloha.

Me: (Unnamed Guy Friend) is now sporting a blue Honda Jazz!

Amazing Aloha: Naks! Iba na mayaman!

Me: The loneliness is becoming unbearable.

Extra Rice: (after a while) Sorry pare natutulog ako nung nag-text ka ng loneliness mo e.

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After two very long and very boring hours of the orientation (which was actually a COMPLETE REPETITION of the handout they gave away earlier in the year), speaker returns to the stand and now generously chided the perils of television in a child's education.

Uh oh. She hit a soft spot.

She also goes on to say that television causes obesity. Last I checked eating too much while sitting on your ass all day causes obesity.

She also says that kids who watch more TV tend to be more violent. That explains why I hit people in the face as I meet them. (I'm being sarcastic).

At this point, I walked out.

I've worked for TV all my life and it's not a saintly business. It's a BUSINESS. If you entrust the education and values of your child to a box in the middle of the room, that's your fault.
Before they mention the word "GMA", I was out the gate.

ALONE AGAIN, NATURALLY (Brought to you by Jollibee)

2008-02-05T08:20:00.000-08:00

Girlfriends are underrated. I can’t say that enough. Parents, siblings, your children, yes, they can love you unconditionally too. But girlfriends, especially those in the same situation as you are (nearing or beyond thirty and single), are your equals --- women who understand what you are going through and would never judge you no matter how stupid you have acted. They would always be there in the best way they can, be it text message or email or whatnot. And they, along with countless other single women, have done the most outrageous things out of love (or what seemed like it), all for the sake of escaping the gripping sadness that loneliness brings.
These are some of their stories.

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A few days ago, in between sips of Gatorade, my friend Peach Mango Pie admitted to me that she is having an affair with a married man. Peach Mango Pie is a beautiful, intelligent, successful and a very much single woman. The married man I have met only once, by chance, in the mall with Peach Mango Pie. He looked like a decent man, he smelled good, he talked well.

But he’s married.

Married Guy is so guilty about his little affair that he can’t take Peach Mango Pie to dinner or a movie. He has to be so discrete to the point that he could only take Peach Mango Pie on dates to really far places like Bulacan or Laguna or Tagaytay, or have coffee at really late hours of the night.

But wherever Married Guy took her, Peach Mango Pie went.

One night, Peach Mango Pie and Married Guy were sitting outside a Starbucks, having coffee in some suburban province (Antipolo maybe or Cainta. Peach Mango Pie lives in Makati ) when Married Guy’s phone rings. It’s his wife. He tells his wife that he’s stuck at work and won’t make it at home until the next day. The wife whispers “Liar” and hangs up.

A pebble hits Married Guy’s coffee cup and they both look at the pebble-thrower. It was Married Guy’s wife.

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Swirly Bitz is a college professor. Over carrot cake and peppermint tea the other day, she told me of her latest love(fool) story.

Swirly Bitz teaches college math. One of her students is a handsome young guy. Young Guy is a textbook charmer --- a real gentleman, has a way with words, a nerdy techie but also a cool musician. And naturally, Swirly Bitz fell. Flat, face first, on the floor, blood and sweat and tears all around. She was hopelessly in love.

Swirly Bitz’ classes were towards the evening and Young Guy happened to go home to the same faraway suburban place as Swirly Bitz. Swirly Bitz has a car.

One night, Swirly Bitz saw that Young Guy was walking along the very long university avenue (oopsie, just gave away a clue) and decided to pull over. Swirly Bitz asked Young Guy to hop in. To make a long story short, she gave Young Guy a ride home.

As Young Guy descended the vehicle, Swirly Bitz reached for something in her glove compartment. Young Guy thought Swirly Bitz was going to give him an accustomed “beso” and leaned in.

Their lips missed each others cheeks and instead met one another.

Their kiss became heated and uncareful (I just made that word up). After a few minutes, they parted.

That night, Swirly Bitz checked her exams. Out of a 100 item quiz, Young Guy got only twelve correct answers.

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Extra Rice was fuming, while we had grilled chicken and buttered vegetables (three pieces of green beans), she told me this story.

After ten long years, Non Catholic Guy came back to the life of my friend Extra Rice. You see, Extra Rice and Non Catholic Guy spent three giggly albeit non-sexual years together in high school and then parted ways.

One random day, Non Catholic Guy texts Extra Rice and asks if they can have coffee.

“When?” Extra Rice asks.

“Around 1 o’clock later.” Non Catholic Guy answers.

Extra Rice looks at her watch. It’s eight in the evening. “You mean 1 o’clock tomorrow?”

“No. Later tonight” Non Catholic Guy answers.

For some reason, Extra Rice didn’t mind the abruptness and the unconventionality (ah, another new word!) of the offer and she went anyway. She was more curious, excited even, of the spontaneity of an old friend and lover.

When Extra Rice saw Non Catholic Guy at (yet another) suburban coffee shop, her heart melted. And her heart slowly jumped out of her chest as Non Catholic Guy walked faster towards her.
He didn’t even speak. He scooped her in his arms and kissed her. She was taken aback at first, but she felt the kiss was familiar and real. She kissed him back.

They broke the kiss. His hands caressed her face and she sighed deeply in his neck. As she was about to open her mouth to say something affectionate, his words drove a stake through her heart.

“I’m getting married”

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And now, my favorite.

Mango Caramel Sundae hasn’t dated in years. Which is why when she was set up on a date with an intelligent, young man who we will name Cerebro, Mango Caramel Sundae jumped at the opportunity.

On text, Cerebro lived up to his name. He was opinionated, political, humorous. He also sounded tall. He provided four to five days of teenage-like flirting on the cellphone.

The day came when Mango Caramel Sundae met with Cerebro. He said he would be the one tinkering with his laptop on the corner of the coffee shop (damn coffee shops).

And there next to the laptop sat Cerebro. He stood up. He wasn’t as tall as Mango Caramel Sundae thought. He wasn’t even as tall as Mango Caramel Sundae.

The date was pretty decent and the two were all polite, even business-like. But Mango Caramel Sunday could not deny to herself that she was disappointed.

And now Cerebro has stopped calling.

Should Mango Caramel Sundae mourn over a guy she’s not even crazy about? Does she miss the guy or what the guy represents? Is there a chance that it’s Mango Caramel Sundae’s fault that she was born tall? Should Mango Caramel Sunday send him growth pills?

Submit your answers.

The Wit and Wisdom of Greg Behrendt

2008-02-05T08:18:00.000-08:00

Look up this guy. Greg Behrendt. And his book (with Liz Tuccillo) "He's Just Not That Into You". It is a woman-empowering book that will change your dating life (if you have one... as if I do) forever.

The book can be summed up in the following very simple statements. Girls, think it over. It'll really help you dump that moron you've been dating for years but couldn't find a reason to:

1. If a guy likes you, he will do something about it. Neither hailstorm nor earthquake can prevent him from reaching for that phone and making you feel that you are important.

2. Conversely, a guy who will NOT DO ANYTHING --- not ask for your number, not call, not text, not invite you to dinner --- is not that into you.

3. If he's not that into you, SO THE HELL WHAT. Even Cindy Crawford has guys saying "What's the big deal?".

4. Have faith (haha... I have this on post-it on my desk). Don't give up. The first step is to be more confident and empowered. Men, apparently, are attracted to confidence and not self-pity.

5. A guy who is not asking you out --- FORMALLY --- on an OFFICIAL date is not that into you. (Ugh. Believe me. I learned this first hand). A guy who is into you would want to make it clear that he is interested in you beyond just being friends.

6. A guy who doesn't want to marry you is not that into you. (Ouch). Even if he doesn't want to marry you YET. Like I said, there is nothing to stop him --- not his emotional stability, not his finances, not his family --- if he truly wants to be with you.

7. A guy who doesn't want to be physically intimate with you is not that into you. Please. Guys love to touch.

8. A guy who doesn't want to improve himself for you is not that into you. The jobless, the bums, the still-lives-with-mom.... love can and should change a man's life. And if he's still not changing because of you, the harsh truth is he might change for some other girl

9. A guy who constantly breaks up (and gets together then breaks up) with you is not that into you. He just doesn't want to be lonely. The best thing to do with Mr. Needy is to sever all ties.

10. And finally, Don't waste the pretty! We're all pretty, girls. If you have ever been at the receiving end of a man's admiration (no matter how repulsive his fez is), if you have ever been at the receiving end of a man's attention and affection (boy, do i miss that), then YOU, my friend, ARE NOT THE LEAST BIT UGLY. So why are you going to waste your lovely face on a guy who isn't interested?

Commence the comments. I'm sure the guys would flip.

Respect The Process

2008-02-05T08:17:00.000-08:00

As we reach the second half of the year, one of the most important lessons I've learned is this: You must respect the process.

Everything in life goes through a process. An organism's gestation in a mother's womb, turning a caterpillar into a butterfly, photosynthesis, evaporation and condensation (and I'm not talking about milk), cryogenics, asexual (and even sexual) reproduction. And each of these processes are bound by an uncontrollable variable: TIME.

[QUICK SIDEBAR: This has helped me, for example, be a better cook. I used to be very impatient, cooking over high fire, undercooking vegetables, for example. But since I've learned to be more patient, more respectful of the process so to speak, my cooking has improved (I think).]

And I realize that this applies to every other aspect in our lives. In our careers. In our relationships. In our personal struggles.

Do you believe that right now, right this moment, everything around you is conspiring to make you reach an inevitable goal? The weather, the tiniest comments of people about you, circumstances --- all of these are aligning to put you in a situation that will get that train going.
Do you believe that right now, someone has you on his mind, it could be because of what you can do, what you have, or how deeply you mean to that person? Do you believe that his daily thoughts will culminate to an event that will change your life forever? He could either fire you or promote you. Or ask you to marry him or break your heart.

Either way, it's part of a process. That's what's so magical about it--- how millions of different variables will come together to make you who you will be.

But the trick to accepting it all is to have faith. Have faith in the process. Like my friend Tisay used to tell me: "It's always okay in the end. If it's not okay, then it's not the end."

More Firsts...

2008-02-05T08:16:00.000-08:00

1. I actually enjoyed shopping today.

2. For the first time in the eight years I've had mid-year bonuses (GMA's such a great company....cough), I only bought ONE BOOK and about TEN pieces of clothing and not vice-versa.

3. This one is a milestone: a blouse on a mannequin by the store window? Looked for it on the racks. Tried it on. It fit me. Bought it. Ain't that a Pretty Woman moment there for ya?

4. I bought a blouse that didn't have a size. I've never bought free size blouses before.

5. I was able to buy two pairs of jeans for the price of one because they had my size --- a normal size (let's not get numerical, basta it's NORMAL). If I was my usual humongous self, I wouldn't have gotten that bargain.

6. Got a denim jacket. A MEDIUM. I haven't been medium since I was seventeen.

7. I tried on a dress (that was too expensive, but it was near the fitting rooms haha) and it looked great (yet slutty) on me. Too bad there's no occasion to buy it for.

8. While jogging in UP, I chanced upon a guy ( who was jogging in the opposite direction from me) twice. The first time he just looked at me, the second time, he smiled at me. He was GOOD-LOOKING (by usual standards, not mine. As any friend of mine would attest, I have very bad taste in men haha).

9. Did I already say I was a medium? I'm a fucking Medium. I can't get over it.

10. Looking at mirrors are especially enjoyable.

I'll be pestering you with more post-weight loss stories so keep coming back.

Calorie-counting, The Goodbye Song and Wentworth Miller

2008-02-05T08:15:00.000-08:00

I've been struggling with my weight for God knows how long and I've come to a point where I thought it was pointless anyway, the diets, the pills, the bitter teas. My mantra before was that no one was requiring me to lose weight: not my family, not my friends, not my job. Then I learned about this calorie-counting thing and I said, "Okay, one last shot". And I'm glad I gave it a chance. It's been eight weeks so far and I've lost 14 lbs and three inches around my waist. Six pounds more and I will be out of the realm of "overweight" at least by body mass index (BMI) standards. And it's true that you don't do it for anyone else, you do it for yourself. I feel healthier, the daily exercise helps me sleep, and my clothes fit me better. I've ingrained the calorie-counting system to my lifestyle so much that I can't put a morsel of food in my mouth without knowing how many calories it would contribute to my day. It's become part of my routine. It's not that hard, if you think about it.

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The first thing my son learned in summer pre-school? The Goodbye Song. The cognotic version of "Uwian na... uwian na..." (Do you realize that we used to sing it to the tune of the wedding march?). It goes "We are going, we are going, say goodbye... say goodbye... see you all tomorrow...see you all tomorrow... say goodbye" (I can't remember what the tune is but it's a children's song we used to sing. Ah, I'll get back to you).

Imagine my boy in an hour-long catatonia in school only participating in a single activity: singing The Goodbye Song. Like mother like son.

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I have resisted for months to get on the Prison Break bandwagon, thinking that it's just a show with good looking men, that it's not going to be funny and intelligent like the X-files.
I have also resisted to get on the Wentworth Miller drool fest at the office and in my other social circles because he struck me as the Tom Cruise - Brad Pitt type, the type that gets so overrated, you have to take a closer look if they're actually good looking.

And then I did watch the show and man was I wrong. The show is as ridiculously wonderful as the X-files, perfecting the element of suspense most of all. I am positively hooked.

As for Wentworth Miller, I have initially decided to put my sights on the older brother, Dominic Purcell --- who has the shoulders of a real man and the acting chops of Hugh Jackman (who he went to school with). But then Wentworth Miller talks with that velvety, Bruce Wayne voice of his that echoes in your brain HOURS after you hear it and I'm like..... Dominic who?
Yes, I like Wentworth, but I put on a fight first.

Mandatory Solitary Confinement

2008-02-05T08:14:00.000-08:00

After eleven very long months of neglecting lunch breaks, not sleeping on time, drinking alcohol instead of fluids, and my brain deceiving my body that exercise is not for smart people --- smart people need to exercise their brain --- my body finally gave up and said “That’s it. I’m outta here. I’m shutting down.”

Thanks partly to a clueless protozoan I have fondly nicknamed as Annie Amoeba (who is dead by now, poor thing), I was forced to four days of confinement in a 7 x 8 cell… I mean hospital room. The reason for getting said parasite was completely random: cafeteria iced tea. I’ve always had it almost five times in a week, never thinking that although the water used for the iced tea may be clean, the tube ice which they do not make (they buy it) may not be.

Just like that, the rest of your week changes. The meetings you’ve planned, the reports you need to pass, the presentations you need to draft, all take a back seat because your body refuses to cooperate. You’re weak, physically weak. The ideas that zoom about in your head look like faded smudges because your stomach is telling your feet to run to the bathroom.

Those were four days of my life I’m never getting back. Four days that I could have spent with my family, with my friends, to finish a good book, to finish the second season of CSI:NY (for the fifteenth time), if I had lived a little healthier lifestyle. But because I have neglected the smallest things --- eating on time, sleeping on time, drinking plenty of fluids --- I was stuck in a hospital room with a painful IV in my left hand (the needle looked like a small dagger when they took it out) and a dextrose bottle I had to lag around everywhere I went.

(I also felt like a dog on a leash when a nurse would escort me to the x-ray room, with her taking the dextrose while I had to catch up with her).

The worst part of it all is that being stuck in the hospital room felt more like prison than a vacation. Despite the nice air-conditioned room, the entertaining nurses (entertaining because they were an assortment of personalities. One of them I nicknamed Jumpy, she seemed to be always high on something), it was so horribly lonely. I couldn’t impose on my parents to stay with me at the hospital because my three-year old son was already a handful. So they would spend about 4-6 hours with me and then go home afterwards. I slept alone and woke up alone.
I missed my parents, I missed my friends, I missed my PC (I haven’t checked my mail in seven days! The horror!), and most of all, I missed my little boy. Whenever I go home from work, I spend thirty minutes to an hour with him and then I tell him to go to sleep or I go to sleep. But being away from him, even for only four days, made me miss him so much.

So I vow never again to neglect the simple, most basic do’s and don’t’s of a healthy lifestyle. I’m not about to take yoga or start eating organic food, but I will start with the three things my doctor told me today before he sent me on his way (did I just rhyme?).

Drink lots of fluids. Soda isn’t a fluid. It’s a thick liquid, not a fluid. Anything with sugar and preservatives will cause you to clog your system and make you pee orange. Orange pee is bad.
Eat well and on time. However busy you might be, sneak in a healthy snack, like a tuna sandwich or crackers; and finally

Sleep properly. A four-hour sleep does not fall into the realm of “sleeping properly”. Program your body to relax and shut down before the clock strikes midnight. If your PC gets to be turned off after an eight-hour shift, shouldn’t you?

Just those three things. It’s so frigging simple. If you’re feeling a little ambitious, throw in a jog or a bike ride during weekends. Have at least one fruit a day. Quit smoking. Don’t drink as often as usual (Warning: If your weekly grocery includes four bottles of beer, you should be alarmed). And for God’s sakes, eat breakfast. Eat breakfast. Eat breakfast. Have I told you to eat breakfast?

These little things are so simple. So simple. We’ve known these things since Health Class in senior high school. You wrote it down on paper during the Science & Health exams. You know the concept. It’s in your head. Why aren’t you doing it? Why?

The last place and time you want to be in is bound to a bed regretting the things you could have done, the words you could have said, the people you could have loved, and the ideas you could have had that might have changed the world for the better, all because you neglected the most important person in your life: YOURSELF.

On my day off, I finished The Da Vinci Code. This makes one of the oddest day-offs I've ever had.

2008-02-05T08:13:00.000-08:00

Friday
I've said this a million times. Everytime someone resigns or retires, I die a little. It's like someone finally made parole and I still have to continue with my life sentence. (As much as I love the company I work for, sometimes I feel like I'm in jail). It was Ate Chi-chi's last day last Friday, she retired after 19 years of working. I worry about her, though. After nineteen years, on the first Monday that you don't have to wake up at 6, fall in line for the MRT, swipe your time card... what exactly do you do?

We treated her out to Dencio's in front of ABS-CBN. I got slightly frustrated as I was expecting ABS employees there, ready to pick a fight with us. Or at least get to see Vhong Navarro.

Saturday
Alabang is FARRRRR..... I would not dare travel to Alabang on my own let alone with my son. But for the love of Abi and free Mcflurry, I did. Heck, it was an adventure. It was Abi's pseudo-daughter's (a close child-relative --- preferably the child of a brother or a cousin --- whose affections one pours into due to a lack of a child. The 90's woman's idea of surrogacy) birthday and it was held in McDonald's Festival Mall Alabang. My son, Cojie, ever the snob, sat through the whole thing while all the other kids played parlor games. He threw his party hat at me, Abi and Abi's mom (So sorry, Abi's mom!) when we made him wear it. Thank God for the new and improved Ronald McDonald mascot who now looks more like a cartoon than a potential child molesting clown, my son snapped out of it and just... got in a better mood. Talk about weird.

Sunday
Of course, I'm going to write about Superman Returns. Superman/Clark Kent (I've said this a million times) is my version of what a guy should be: shy and geeky on the inside but superhero material on the outside. SInce Superman 1 was the first movie I ever saw, it was almost necessary that Superman Returns be the first movie Cojie will ever see. I think he enjoyed himself (hopefully not the way I did).

Brandon Routh is Christopher Reeve with a leather maroon (not red!) cape. His Clark Kent is the awkward and geeky kind and his Superman is probably 95% CGI. Whatever happened to hanging a guy on wires?

You would think that I would retire that night thinking about Brandon Routh in his tights but no. I bought a copy of Someone Like You on VCD and saw Hugh Jackman and got completely hooked. I watched all his X-men movies again before going to bed. Sigh. Maybe that's why I can't have a lovelife. I can't even stick to one Superhero.

What is Truth?

2008-02-05T08:11:00.000-08:00

On my day off, I finished The Da Vinci Code. This makes one of the oddest day-offs I've ever had.

For those of you who have been living underground, The Da Vinci Code tells the story of a murdered museum curator who kept a deadly secret. In the last few minutes of his life, he managed to leave clues as to why he was killed and who could have possibly killed him.

He took of his clothes, drew a cricle around him, and with the blood pouring out of his stomach (someone shot him), he drew a five-pointed star, and then posed flat on his back with his arms and legs apart --- as Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man.

I will not tell the rest of the story. Read the book.

Bottomline is, the "secret" in the book rocked my world the same way it has rocked every Christian/Catholic person in the earth. What bothers me is not so much as the "lies" which the book claims have been perpetuated by political men for centuries --- but one line in the book which I have agreed with for so long. "History is but a fable agreed upon." Truth is relative.
Having been brought up in a Catholic home, the Bible has always been thought of as the most sacred object inside the house. But has anybody ever wondered who wrote it? Edited it? Two thousand years of history congested in a 2000-paged book? The same way a book, if made into a movie, will leave out a lot of pertinent details, so will history be edited out when outlined in a book.

A person or a group of persons --- which is as good as one person anyway because they will more likely agree upon each other --- wrote this book, The Bible. Unless we see Christ's thumbmark, or his signature which says "To Petra, Keep on Reading! Love, J.C." at the front of the book, how are we to know that The Bible has clearly documented everything about Christ's life? What is Truth?

I checked out the priests' response to the Da Vinci Code and as always they've disappointed me. "Leave it to faith". "The human mind can never fathom the reasons of God". Right. The same way my human mind cannot fathom why we have to pay taxes and you holy men don't.
But then again, my faith is not shattered --- faith in God, that is. My faith on the Catholic Church has long gone. My faith in a God that does not persecute me for my womanhood, my faith in God for sending to this earth a Savior who is much like me only better so that I will listen to him because I can relate to him, and my faith in knowing that I'm not all bad --- all this were affirmed by a fictional book.

A fictional book which has now been made to a movie that the MTRCB might ban. See? History is just like any newspaper --- there are editors and there are repeat stories.

Perpetua

2008-02-05T08:10:00.000-08:00

It is both fortunate and unfortunate that I am so loved by my parents that I don't nor have I ever had a need for the affection of another relative, say, a grandparent.

Which is why I have never been close to any of the elders in our clan, not as close as some of my cousins are perhaps. For example, as horrible as this may sound, whenever a Lolo or a Lola dies, I have never been in grief. I'd be sad, sure. I'd even cry. But I have never been gripped by a debilitating sadness that would not enable me to perform everyday.

However, this particular death bothered me the most. Lola Perpetua --- Etreng as she is fondly called (my family of the weird nicknames) --- died last Friday. She died alone in her home.

All I know of my Lola Etreng is that she was an amazingly weird cook. Weird because she would put ingredients in dishes that you won't normally see in them (e.g. red sago in buko salad -- ever had PINK buko salad?) but amazing because it would taste great. Whenever the clan would go on vacation or have a party, while all the other families would bring one or two dishes, Lola Etreng would bring ten --- not including dessert.

Lola Etreng knew only one trade --- she was market vendor. This is why she had to live alone. She lived on her spot on a small market place in Manila. She had to stay close to her work.

Every day, his son, my Tito Boy (every family has a Tito Boy. I think I have two) would come to her house to help her market. That Friday morning, when Tito Boy knocked on the door, no one answered. When he managed to open the latch, he saw his mother on the floor, foaming at the mouth.

Now, I am horrified at the thought of being alone. I'm starting to think that maybe I am destined --- perhaps trained --- to be alone. Only child? Check. Single Mom? Check. Even at work I am the sole Senior Media Specialist. See a pattern? Which is why I force myself to deal with the complexities, the inanity, the awful, awful mind games that guys play so I can date them and assure myself that I am at least doing something to make sure I won't die alone.

But now I know, we can't be sure.

Lola Perpetua had five children and about ten grandchildren. None of them were there when she died. Not because they didn't want to --- it was circumstance. These things suck but they happen.

Now what could have gone through Lola Perpetua's mind as she laid there, her heart a weapon against her own body. Did she fumble for the phone? Did she try to scream for help? Was there fear in her heart? Did she cry? Or did she just lie there and thought "What the hell. Bring it on"
What I do hope is that in her final minutes, she saw an apparition --- heck, even a hallucination --- of her husband Domeng, leaning over her, smiling. So that even in her mind, she was not alone.

Commercial muna....

2008-02-05T08:09:00.000-08:00

1. Pizza Hut Bistro at Gateway. Food is good, little expensive than, say, Pizza hut Concepcion Market, nice date place. Good-looking waiters. I'm not talking about "cute" waiters -- like the Paolo Contis variety. I'm talking about Alfred Vargas - good looking. Dennis-Effing-Trillo.

2. Look for the following books. "Bakit Baliktad Magbasa ang Mga Pilipino" and "Ang Paboritong Libro ni Hudas". They are too cheap (meaning their cost) for their own merit --- if they costed twice as much, I'd still buy it. The author is Bob Ong (is he a real writer? a pseudonym maybe?). The book is HILARIOUS, like watching stand-up. Have you ever read a book and just laughed so hard you'd stop reading it for a second? I wish I could give you a sample of how funny it is but I feel I will not measure up. If you don't have it, just go out NOW and buy it.

3. Beware the Bloody Mary. Since I read Bridget Jones, I have scoured every restaurant in the city and the Bloody Mary has been scarce. Thank God for Gilligan's in Makati. The Bloody Mary tastes... really weird. Weird yet satisfying. Like having a relationship with somebody who's ugly but is a good kisser. You don't want to even see it/him or smell it/him but you can't get enough.

4. For a guilt-free pleasure, try Figaro's carrot cake. Figaro's carrot cake has a nice cream-cheese icing and the cake has nice crumbly walnuts. Try this for those depressing nights on your way home when you want to get the image of the guy who broke your heart out of your head. Although it costs much more than your average McFlurry, it's healthier.

Select Figaro branches also have cute waiters.

5. Enchanted Kingdom costs P500. If you're a scaredy-cat like me, you're better off watching a movie.

Word Vomit

2008-02-05T08:08:00.000-08:00

(Thanks to Mean Girls--- and Tina Fey--- for the term/title)

Have you ever had so many thoughts in your head that you just want to drill a hole in you temple and pour all the thoughts into a basin or a ten-gallon drum depending on how many thoughts you have.

(Epiphany! This must be what J.K. Rowling thought of when she invented the Pensieve.)

I've gotten up in the middle of the night to write down a story or a rant or a thought on my journal. Once, I stayed up until 4am writing down my version of how Lois & Clark should have ended.

These thoughts may be positive thoughts. These may be creative thoughts. Hell, people make a living doing this. But then these thoughts may be horrible, painful thoughts. Memories of a relationship after its bitter end. Thoughts of hatred towards a person you work with. It can range from something extremely positive like planning a charity benefit to something extremely negative like plotting murder or blackmail.

I am having these thoughts right now. I am so haunted by so many (negative) thoughts that I can't be at peace anywhere. I've tried. Last night, I hopped from one restaurant to another just trying to get .... this concept, this being... out of my head. I tried blasting my ears out with my mp3 player (which died on me) WHILE answering a crossword WHILE texting my friend. Talk about multi-friggin-tasking. But to no avail.

You just want to scream at your own head "Shut the f*ck up". You want to hide under a stone for months or years. You just want the thoughts to stop.

Hmmm....

The good thing about life is that you don't have just one life. You have life at work, you have life at home, you have life with your friends in highschool, you have life with your friends in college. You don't necessarily have to hibernate to disappear...

The Gospel on Love According to Dane Cook

2008-02-05T08:07:00.000-08:00

"When you don't have love, everybody you know falls in love.... Even retarded people in your neighborhood are getting married on their front lawn. As you drive by, "WHAT???!!!!! The 'Tards are getting married on their lawn"..... "That's great, I have nobody and the 'Tards just committed to each other for a lifetime of 'Tardiness"

I came up with the perfect analogy right here. This is what it feels like. When you don't have love, it's like there's a party going on and everybody was invited..except for YOU. And you just happen to be walking by that house in the rain (wipes his eyes as if its raining)...."Hmmm... I wasn't invited to this party".

But then again, once you're IN love, that's like being inside that party going "Where's my jacket? I wanna get out of here"... "I've been in this party SIX years and I want to see other parties".... "Someone shit on the coats...""

-The Brilliant Dane Cook, "Retaliation" 2005 (www.danecook.com)

Poker and Life

2008-02-05T08:06:00.002-08:00

Texas Hold Em. You're always dealt with two cards. Everyone starts off with an equal number of chips. But then not everyone has great cards. But the opportunities are there, just floating around, it's up to you how much chips you're going to lay on the table.

Sometimes you have "ok" kind of cards, like a Jack and a Five before the flop. And you have a decent number of chips, so you raise. And then the flop unfolds and there's another Jack--- you now have a pair. Or it's two Jacks and another Five, then you have an eff-ing Full House --- which almost always wins. And all the players around you think you're bluffing because you're going all in on these great, great cards. But then you win, of course. Moment of triumph which lasts about five minutes, and then the next cards are dealt.

Then you have great cards, like a pair of Aces. Even before the flop, you bet half of your chips, and your opponents don't catch your bluff. Especially one opponent. The flop unfolds, and it's two deuces and a three, and you bet the other half of your pot. This other opponent goes all in too. You think you're going to win --- you have a pair of Aces anyway. You're thinking "What the hell is this moron doing? I have a pair of f*cking Aces". Until he shows his cards and he has the other pair of deuces. Imagine that. Four two's beat two Aces.

But then you can also have like sucky cards, like a two and a three--same suit. Right of the bat, you fold. The flop unfolds and it's a four, a five and a six--- with the same suit as the sucky cards you just folded. You could have gotten a frigging Royal Flush if you only took the risk. You do nothing but sip on your beer and wait for the next turn.

All of these things, in life, has happened to us in one way or another.

The job you turned down which now pays twice your current salary. The boyfriend you broke up with who's now a friggin millionaire. The book you bought for P1,500 which is now, six months later, sold at half off (HARRY POTTER!!!!)

Or on the lighter side, it could be your current job which used to pay a ridiculous salary and now gives you more than enough. Or a suitor you took a chance on --- not very good-looking, not that successful --- and turned out to be the love of your life.

The thing is, cards will always be dealt --- you always have as much a chance as all the others.

The way to winning is taking risks.

Take those risks.

New Year's Resolutions.... Seriously

2008-02-05T08:06:00.001-08:00

1. I will no longer complain. I'm through complaining. I will no longer whine about the state of my weight, my salary, my lovelife, the friggin government, the fact that I don't have cable... I'm done. I will let things happen to me as they come.

2. I'm going to lay low on the stupid nerd stuff that I buy all the time --- books and videos --- and concentrate more on CLOTHES! The next book that I want to buy hasn't been written yet (Harry Potter 7) and the DVDs that I want won't be available until October (CSI Season 5 and Las Vegas Season 3). So will buy clothes instead.

3. I will socialize more. I will go out with my friends more. Cojie's almost three. I guess I can take at least one Saturday of every month for just hanging out with my friends without my mom accusing me of being an irresponsible mother.

4. I will clean the junk underneath my desk...

5. I will accessorize more. I've noticed that when I don't have earrings, I look like my Dad. Not to say that my Dad isn't good looking, but honestly, does any single girl want to look like her DAD who isn't a girl when you're in the middle of the dating world?

6. I will stop being late for work! Seriously!

7. I will sleep earlier and stop daydreaming (or conscious nightdreaming, given the time) until 3am.

8. I will drink more water.

9. I will do something pointless, senseless, baseless, something that would require me to spend so much money and then regret it afterwards so that I could have something to tell my friends and they would then think that I'm not such a dork.

10. I will always use conditioner.

The 2005 Holiday: A Booze Timeline

2008-02-05T08:04:00.002-08:00

(Inspired by Abi's blog. Thanks, friend. As always, you are A B.I. in my life hehe).

December 20: GMA Marketing & Productions Christmas Party. Finished 6 bottles of Wild Vines with three other friends (or probably four... by about 1am everything was a blur). Couldn't remember what or if I actually won in the raffle until people told me about it the next day.

December 25: Christmas dinner with the family. Had two bottles of red wine between me, my Dad and my cousin. Very Ayala Alabang if not for our pulutan --- pinaupong manok.

December 27: UP Math Club reunion at Mario's and then at Dencio's, had a margarita, a San Mig Strong Ice and half of Nep's beer so we could go home already.

For really good margarita, go to Congo Grille.

January 1: New Year's dinner with my family, had a bottle of Novellino (the best drink I had this season) and El Hombre Tequila.

Be warned. El Hombre Tequila is NOT FRIGGIN TEQUILA. It is tequila-flavored GIN. It will smell and even taste like tequila but the hang-over is SOOO GIN. That's what I get for being a damned cheapskate.
Until next year...

Got Stood Up But In A Good Way

2008-02-05T08:04:00.001-08:00

Music doesn't do it for me anymore. While cutting and pasting and averaging and analyzing on the most underrated, most misunderstood software (Excel), I need to work the rest of my brain or else that part will sleep and then the rest of my brain will sleep. There's almost always nothing good on TV in the middle of the afternoon. Radio streaming will bog my computer down (and besides, which radio station is worth listening to nowadays?). And my mp3 collection is getting old. So I turned to stand-up.

Right now, I have four choices: I have Chris Rock's HBO special on CD, Adam Sandler's and Jimmy Fallon's "Best of..." CDs, and Dane Cook's very efficient video-streaming website. I also have a small collection of Saturday Night Live clips.

I hear Rex Navarete, although not good looking, is hilarious yet Pinoy. Will look for him next.
I have a whole discourse in my head of how stand-up can save your life but unfortunately I have to work so ta.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Dane Cook

2008-02-05T08:03:00.000-08:00

My ever changing Friendster primary photo proves to you that (a) I am very insecure of my looks and (b) I have a crush of the month that is usually a comedian. Except for Daniel Radcliffe.

Last month, my primary photo was Jimmy Fallon. Do not judge him based on his movies Taxi and Perfect Catch (Fever Pitch if you're in the US). Don't even judge him based on his hosting skills during the last MTV Movie Awards. He's good-looking AND funny --- the order of the words ever important since his funniness doesn't work on everyone but everyone agrees that he's good-looking. He is an alumnus of Saturday Night Live, a show I love but don't diligently watch because I don't have cable (I download episodes instead) and he is a brilliant and gorgeous comedian. But he is currently unemployed and last I saw him, chubby.

When September rolled in, I chaged my primary photo to Seth Meyers, another SNL feature player and one of the champs of Celebrity Poker Showdown. Seth is handsome but if you google his name, there's not much stuff on him on the net.

My October guy is going to be Dane Cook. I doubt that any of you knows Dane Cook. Check out his website www.danecook.com. He is a hilarious, sexy, wonderful stand-up comic and he's going to be HUGE someday. I hear he has a sitcom in the works so hope that won't bomb.

If you're like me and 150 mp3 files on your computer just don't entertain you anymore, turn to standup. Check out the website. Seriously.

Harry Potter and the Unanswered Questions

2008-02-05T08:02:00.000-08:00

You can ignore this post. I just don't want to get pen and paper for this haha...
WARNING: Major Half-Blood Prince Spoilers! Read at your own risk!

1.) Snape killed Dumbledore. But Dumbledore has always trusted Snape. Did Snape really betray Dumbledore? Is Dumbledore really dead?

2.) Voldemort remains immortal because his soul is divided into seven different parts, each part contained in seven separate objects, all of which must be destroyed to ulimately kill him. There are four definite horcruxes to date: the diary, Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup and Marvolo's ring. Nagini, the snake may or may not be a horcrux. The remaining horcruxes may be something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's. It could be the sorting hat, the sword of Gryffindor (which I highly doubt), some even said Harry himself or his scar. But I thought the prophecy said that neither will live while the other survives, so if Voldemort kills Harry, wouldn't he be destroying one of his Horcruxes?

3.) Ron and Hermione will end up together. That's not a question, it's a statement. The how and the when is the interesting part.

4.) Will Harry get a new girlfriend in his last year at Hogwarts? (I doubt it)

5.) With Dumbledore gone, who will replace him as Headmaster? McGonagall?

6.) With Snape gone, who will be the next Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher? Will Slughorn continue to teach Potions or will he be running for his life?

7.) Will Hogwarts still be open on Harry's 7th year, what with the Dark Mark hovering above it, Dumbledore's death in the hands of a professor, among many other issues? (Rowling has said that she has written her last Quidditch match in book 6).

8.) Will we uncover the mystery of Snape's character, his connection to Lily Potter (who, as Slughorn has said, was also brilliant in Potions), his becoming a Death Eater, and his dislike-yet-protectiveness of Harry? I mean, really, he could've killed Harry many times.

9.) Will the Order of the Phoenix be relevant in Harry's quest for the Horcruxes? Or are they just there for the final battle?

10.) Will I be able to afford book 7? (ngyahahaha)

The Longest Yard: Sandler as you've never seen him before

2008-02-05T08:00:00.000-08:00

I would like to acknowledge first the means by which I was able to watch this movie. DWLS-FM sponsored the premier in Megamall last week and I was pulling my hair in all directions, wishing SOMEONE from our radio group would say that there are tickets left. My good friend (naks) Anton used his powers of persuasion to ask an AE for some tickets for me, and in an hour or so, I got my tickets. I owe Anton something. Remind me.

I am an Adam Sandler filmographer. I have seen every movie he has starred in (not counting those were he was a bit player, like in Coneheads). I have a small collection of his work: Billy Madison, Happy Gilmore, Wedding Singer, Mr. Deeds, the wonderful Airheads (during those years when he had six-pack abs), 50 First Dates and his attempt at an Oscar (but led only to Golden Globe nomination), Punch Drunk Love, and Spanglish.

I did not expect to love The Longest Yard. It's an f-ing sports flick. It's about a sport I don't understand --- football. But it's Adam so I had to see it.

By the way, those reviews you read online, in rottentomatoes.com? They're bull, alright? Critics are filmmakers who can't sell their screenplays. If you enjoy a movie, then enjoy it. Don't let someone else's opinion bother you.

Well, I loved it. It was an hour-and-a-half of goofball laughs, half-naked guys, loud rap music, and a fitter albeit sexier Adam --- but that's just me. Nary a "whoop-dee-doo" in sight. It was a more serious, more "darker" comedy type of Adam. He cast Chris Rock to do all the goofball stuff for him. Rock is great in here too.

Spoiler: If you're a Chris Rock fan, you have GOT to see this.

The Longest Yard is about a has-been football player, Paul Crewe, who gets arrested for drunk driving and has to serve his sentence of 3 years in an isolated prison somewhere in the dessert. His warden, played by James Cromwell, loves football and has organized the prison guards to compete versus other officers in the state. Naturally, Crewe's addition to his prisoner line-up was a gift from heaven.

The warden makes Crewe organize the other inmates to serve as a "guinea pig" team for the prison guards for practice. In effect, the inmates are not playing to win, so they won't. Crewe organizes the weirdest, most dangerous criminals all hell-bent to sock it to every prison guard who has ever hurt them.

Nelly is here. Wrestlers Stone Cold Steve Austin and Kevin Nash are here (yes, I know my wrestlers. I'm sure you do too). Two NFL superstars are here too but I don't care.

Every time I watch a Sandler movie, I have fun. Movies should be fun. I hate drama, I hate movies that scare me, I hate romance movies because they are almost always UNTRUE. There is way too much drama in our lives (You get a 10% raise in your salary, but your expense go up 50%. Stupid government). Watch movies to have fun. You will have fun with this one.