Told you. Tennis isn't sopoforic.

This palpable void in Roger Federer's resumé is temporarily eclipsed as he marches his way back to the GOAT (greatest of all time—I know, awful abbreviation) conversations. Fifth set, one all, 15-40. I grabbed the rosary randomly sitting beside me, gripped onto it, and started muttering invented prayers to help this forthcoming miracle surface before my eyes. Two smart serves, they were gone. Fifth set, two all, 15-40. I grabbed the prayer book randomly sitting beside me, gripped onto it, and started skimming the pages to look for a suitable prayer for one Spanish David to beat his Swiss Goliath. But forced prayers don't work all the time. The Mighty Fed reemerged and those chances never visited again.


Very stylish, Roger. But it's not the smartest idea to walk after your geared up opponent.

But what a match!! Unquestionably, an instant classic. So instant that it was on ESPN Classic just nearly 36 hours after its completion! What's more interesting about this match, or this rivalry, is the discernible contrast between the two. Roger came out in archaic fashion while Rafa paraded his bicep-bearing dernier cri. Each has his own homecourt; Paris' red clay for the Spaniard, green grass of London for the Swiss. On court, Rafa habitually roars and motions an uppercut with a loud "si" (yes!) or "vamos" (come on!) after each intense rally. While Federer, five years senior of his rival, is counted to be the coolest-headed competitor there is in sports—which is why his verbal discharge yesterday over technology was pretty disconcerting. The match not only had a decent share of drama but it also showcased the best tennis these two played from any of their collection of grand slam confrontations. It's just borderline disappointing that Rafa had to ultimately appear fatigued after hauling Federer to a fifth set. Nevertheless, another remarkable encounter between these two, and I can't be anymore lucky to witness one of the most astounding matches Wimbledon has ever staged.

Congrats to TMF for completing the Borg chase, and hats off to Nadal for fronting an almost shatterproof challenge against the world's greatest player. I hope the loss doesn't dislodge Rafa's focus because with all the ruckus he endured for the past two weeks, this tournament deservingly belonged to him as much as it did Federer. Now that inevitable question arises again... Will Rafa win Wimbledon before Roger wins Roland Garros? I certainly don't have the analytical percipience of Bud Collins, but after what Nadal has shown on Centre Court yesterday, it's almost a coarse disrespect to say he won't. Because if he almost toppled Fed's chances of winning while having to play for the seventh consecutive day and with a nagging knee injury, then one could only foresee his superiority if he competed as healthy and as well-rested as Federer was. Even Roger agrees and I quote, "I think he deserves a title here." But don't get it twisted. While I'm all for Rafalito winning Wimbledon one day, my hopes of a grand slam for The Mighty Fed—although I'm already getting satiated by his consistency in finals—is still very much incontrovertible. Will he win the biggie on clay before Rafa mows his ass on grass? Let's just say, yesterday's probability is now quite unlikely.


Great rivalries include inimitable streaks, golden memorabilias, and very tight manhugs.
Now we're off to the North American hardcourts where Rafa suffers the most. But with his exorbitant display on grass this year, especially at yesterday's final, he is not that far from being in the ranks of potential Feder-threats for the US Open crown. If a player of Andy Roddick's caliber—which isn't really saying much—can strip a set off Federer in the finals, then Nadal's flaws shouldn't be that badly exposed. As an obsessive tennis fan, I adore both Nadal and Federer, and there's nothing more gratifying than for this rivalry to produce more of these nail-biting, spine-tingling, and mind-blowing matches in future times. It's just sad that I'm redundantly pouring my heart out to this very same topic and you, my beautiful friends, are still not into it!! I'm telling you. Jump in before it's too late! Look at me, I'm witnessing history here!! Plus, with all the bonus yummy guys out there everyday.. Ugh, trust me.. You'll thank me later.

Oh Paris!

It's on newspapers, television, numerous blogs, and even on SportsCenter. This whole Paris Hilton debacle is slowly getting out of hand that I just had to jump in the bandwagon before it dies down. After all, I'm her very own opinionated antagonist. But surprisingly, I'm singing a totally different tune with this one. Paris, as annoying as she has been for the past few years, has done nothing more than to pose without her draws on, and entertain us unfailingly with her dumb anecdotes. She might have been overdosing on alcohol, but not on drugs. She probably has had more boyfriends than the whole Barbados, but she's never had fatal sickness that resulted from unsafe sex. She couldn't have been anymore stupid with her every maneuver, but honestly, she's also never been too outspoken to disparage people underneath her celebrity (ie, you and me).


In other words, Paris has earned my sympathy. I might have, for one second, rejoiced when she was sentenced to jail time, but those tears of hers that were flowing like days-kept pee were agreeably sincere that it's now difficult to turn a blind eye on a woman who feels like morphing into Mother Theresa character all of a sudden. I'm serious, folks. I now firmly believe that Paris Hilton meant it when she said she won't "act dumb" any longer, AND that she "would like to make a difference." I know, it sounds like she's attempting to be Bono or Madonna. But I'm banking on a difference that would teach younger girls that exercising the use of bras and panties is healthy for the nipples and vagina. Ehh, you know what I mean.

Onto Paris, France where the impending GOAT in Federer, once again, failed to show up in another Roland Garros final against the relentless (yet uuuuber gorgeous) Rafael Nadal. I just can't seem to swallow the fact that only three weeks ago, I was shaking my head in complete disbelief while Rafa was losing a third set to Mighty Fed at love (zero). From then on, I was led to the popular myth that this could be TMF's time to shine. That he could finally be the star of all seasons. But I was, then again, proven wrong.


Honestly, Rafa played phenomenally, hence Mighty Fed's still existent consternation over this dolorous puzzle Nadal has trapped him in. As Pardon The Interruption's Mike Wilbon summed up best, "Can you be called the greatest player if another guy owns your butt? -- He owns him!" Ouch! We can make up all the arguments we want to set against that quote, but the fact that Rafa DOES own Fed on clay (and at a particular grand slam, no less) is a firm justification as to why Federer, at this point, doesn't deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as the Lavers and the Borgs. But unlike those journalists who quickly flip and flop, I digressively don't harbor any pessimism against the poor guy. Yes, Rafa deserved the win (by a landslide!) and that spot in tennis greats history but Fed is still the world's #1, something Nadal is not (yet) and I still consider the possibility of him, even an old hag, capturing that trophy his arch-rival has sank his teeth on for the past three years. If a hairless Andre Agassi did it at 29, then so can he.

And since we're talking about the French... Didn't you just cringe in excessive irate when ABC couldn't refrain from focusing on Eva Longoria's face every chance they got? My professor even had to point that out! Well, he wasn't nearly as enthused by the Spurs' annihilation of the Cavs, he only wanted to see Tony Parker (for some odd reason I don't want to cognize). But I digress.. He also mentioned another Tony he was fond of watching on a Sunday night. We discussed the atypical series finale of The Sopranos and how it resembled usual endings on other mediums of artwork. He's a theater geek, of course he easily appreciated it. I happen to not have watched this series, but I'm very critical of story endings, and this one, I didn't like. I frankly told him, "...it was like requesting a chef-made salad in a fancy restaurant yet being directed to the salad bar."


His geekiness somehow agreed but thwarted it in his favor by saying that it's fascinating how it's entirely open for different interpretations. While that must be arousing to another type of thinker, my inner PMS-ish bitch just couldn't help but murder his analogy at the back of my head. But instead, I politely replied, "But don't you think that this kind of denouement only works in movies? Because it's only like, 90 minutes long? This series has been running for YEARS! Wouldn't it just make sense that the writers could utilize more of their ideas and convey it through a nice little ending, instead of a family dinner fading to black??" And boom.. I think I just got a C in participation. I may differ with your perception of this ambiguous scenario -- heck, I don't even know much about David Chase and his geniuses -- but I would be screamingly furious if Grey's Anatomy, God forbid, feebly concludes the show just like that. Simply put, it's like being dumped by your boyfriend of 8 years with no apparent reason and you're forced to figure out who, what, how, and why.

And just so you know, in the battle of Tonys at primetime, I watched The Tony Awards. I know, I'm so gay. :-P

10 reasons...

...why I quit my job.


1. I tried serving water once and the humongous glasses almost escaped my fat little hands. 2. Wearing all black from head to toe, especially during Summer, is just completely out of this world. 3. Free food at work is not the greatest idea on earth. No wonder we all looked like twins. 4. I'm currently studying about Francois Boucher, Dorothea Lange, Francisco Goya, Andy Warhol, and Jacques Louis David (people I've NEVER even heard of in my life!!) that there's not much enough space in my already smart-stuffed brains for the different types of cheeses in their variety of pasta dishes. 5. Loud Mexican music in the kitchen is like juicing lemon on a busted wound. 6. A pathetic wage of less than $3/hr is not even enough fill out a 70s car gas tank. 7. Befriending the legacy of Van Gogh, Mozart and Beethoven are so much more important for my future career than making love with lenguinis, raviolis, and rigatonis on a daily basis. 8. I'd rather watch paint dry than to witness every single table luxuriating in their respective dishes. 9. Spontaneous ESPN tv at the bar area will get me fired eventually, anyway. 10. Target pays double the hourly rate of what I was gonna get. If that's not reason enough to quit, then I don't know what is. Bottomline, job this normal is NOT for me. Period.


...why tomorrow's showdown will be an epic.


Besides these delirious attempts at singing which are already YouTube favorites.
1. Roger Federer is closing in on becoming the GOAT (greatest of all time). 2. Rafael Nadal is also gunning to become the greatest clay court player of men's tennis history. 3. Fans have voted Rafa to be the better dancer, now it's time to prove who's the better player on dirt. 4. They're lovers off the court. 5. Whoever wins will cry during presentation. I'm stacking more votes for Federer on this one. 6. Mary Carillo is color-commentating, alongside John McEnroe. You cannot be serious! 7. Rafael Nadal has been scary good at the French. (He's literally unbeatable here, for Pete's sake!!) It will be the match of Fed's life to finally get his stamp on Roland Garros, and more importantly, beat Rafael Nadal for the first time on the Parisian clay. 8. Rafa, on the other hand, should use Fed's recent sluggish performances to his advantage. If he wins, not only he gets to be in the record books, he would also help tennis get back to mainstream popularity. 9. The French Open is Nadal's as to Wimbledon is Federer's. This is his house and Rafa will do everything to barricade those come-ons if he wants a three-peat. 10. And as for Roger, it's practically now or never.


...why you shouldn't worry about me.

1. I'm getting a new job somewhere here in Valley Ranch, and I'm not homeless yet. 2. The pool is clean and working, that should help me shed those pounds I gained from eating too much of those free Italian nachos. 3. Remember that job at the psycho ward with Rue? 4. This is random but The Sopranos ends tomorrow, about the same time as Game 3. What are you watching? 5. I'm buying tons of cucumber tomorrow to erase those ugly dark circles around my eyes. 6. There are three cute guys in my class, that's why I refused to ditch it when Carino's subtlety let me choose between work and school. Only an idiot would take that job over an easy class, with eyecandies in tow. :)) 7. Wimbledon is on is two weeks. That will surely keep me and my hormones busy. 8. My mom was actually the one who persuaded me to quit. 9. Which means, she's still totally fine with me being a pain in her ass. 10. But I'm sticking to my agenda. After fixing my license, I'll be working some place else where there's flexible schedules and no free food.

Have an awesome weekend.

Randomgasms.

I'm in no mood to blog but I might fail to do so in the succeeding days due to a jampacked schedule. But as wise men say, there's no harm in trying. Hence, this pitiful attempt of catering you an entertaining update.

1) As you know, I started my first official job over the weekend. Just when I thought I wasn't gonna complain about anything, here I am again, bitching to a friend of mine, about how small my eventual hourly rate is. My jaws dropped trillions of feet somewhere near jilted planet Pluto the very second I heard that the fat check I'm ever anticipating will only exist IF Mark Cuban decided to dine in and I got to serve him. Or someone else's billionaire character wouldn't mind throwing a big fat tip in exchange of friend mozarella sticks. Otherwise, I will be stuck with such a pathetic pay that could barely supply a car with gas.


The shit to memorize. How much are we getting paid again?

Or maybe I'm just thinking way too much (like I always do). Olivia convinces me that the pay wouldn't really be that bad since we'd be serving an average of 10 tables per hour. But what if I'm in the worst of days and nobody on those 10 tables spares me a single cent? I'm done? I get nothing? Nil? Nada? Zilch? I mean, it's unfathomable to me how someone can be so satisfied by working while only relying on occasional philanthropic aftermaths. I should know, I'm a customer who heartlessly disregards the tipping arena! But I'm giving Olivia a chance to materialize her theory. I will stay, enjoy the free/discounted meals and patiently try it out. But if things don't go my way, like they all should be, I'm quitting. Just like that. *snaps*

2) That film class I told you about was unfortunately snubbed by the students that they had to cancel it. They transfered me to another Humanities course just with a different specialization. Now I have to put up with a professor whose name I can't even pronounce and a class that will talk about Mozart, Houdini, the teenage mutant ninja turtles, and everyone else in between. Oh yay, fun! :-l

3) The junk is the lone American left in the French Open singles draw (men and women). She will be facing the two-time defending champion next so I'm not entirely confident that she wouldn't be the latest casualty to this national embarrassment from Paris. But who even cares about the French Open now? Nadal turned 21 today, he's finally legal, and we can already wed anywhere in the world! Yeee. Feliz Compleanos, Rafa! Te Quiero, whatever the hell that means. :-D


How can you not love? And cream? Ok, that's gross. But seriously! :-))
4) My schedule is inconveniently indefinite at this point. All I know is that I go to school for two hours, 4 days a week and I go to work for another 2-4 hours around dinner time. I have yet to schedule classes for driving (conquering freeway phobia 101) so this Tony guy called up to apparently ask when would be the best time to start the therapy. I could barely understand a word he's saying (he has a thick Indian accent) so I passed the phone to my mother who's seemingly BFFs with those people already. Since my schedule is pretty disoriented at this point, I could only take classes in the morning except this coming Tuesday. I clearly told her that, yet I still got yelled at. I supposedly "made her look like an idiot." I really didn't get that at all.

5) I didn't wanna get into a screamfest with her again so I just quickly left and shut my door. I have been through enough tears the past couple of days that I won't waste anymore Kleenex sobbing over this unworthy fight. I'm an extraordinarily irregular bleeding woman, which explains the seldom visit of that bestial torture. But when it rains, it POURS! (Warning: TMI ahead) I never use tampons, so obviously there's only a slight margin of time in between changes using pads (with wings). I had to call my father who's at work and ask him to buy me a new pack on his way home because I was padding the frantic passage every two hours and I'm running out of clogs!! I hate to ask my father to do things like that for me, but that's the same reason why he's the best father in the whole world! (He got me the maxi, with wings, and some bonus Midol. Now tell me, you'd kill for a father like that!) And as for my mother? She kind of lightened my condition with that disposable hot pack, but after that, I got nothing else. Plus, I should have been the one congested with PMS, not her!! Anyway, after three years of constantly living together, I've finally gotten used to moms. And they will always be moms. They're cursing at you one second, and they'll be shopping shoes for you the next.


6) Is it only me or The Finals suddenly became interesting? The Spurs are gonna win it, that's basic math. But I won't write the Cavs off just like I did to Miami a year ago. (Because that ate me up. Real bad) LeBron is proably one of the most overrated superstars this league has produced in years, but there's no question that his dignified All-Star doesn't deserve any doubt from anyone... for now, at least. I'll be surprised if they go out in a sweep, but I won't be shocked if Manu Ginobli, like the goregeous killer that he is, circusses his way around King James. Now we've got ourselves a show! Spurs in, well, 6.

7) But even if I'm whining about work, school, and my period, I'm nonetheless excited about the busier days ahead. Exactly a year ago, I was enjoying the pool, grilling something bacon-wrapped, and fattening my already fat ass on the kitchen couch. And look at me now? 15 pounds lighter, in school, with a job, and a heckling schedule ahead. Trust me, I really do hate it when I hear myself complaining, that it's even crazy when I tend to imagine that it could possibly be genetic. I know, that's just me, being awesome at excuses. So, to prevent another run at 'Randomgasms' stacked with complaints, I'll be working on a list of mid-year resolutions. I have jotted a few things down, bitching included, but I have yet to figure out what else negative is there for me to eliminate. Narcissism, perhaps? Help me out. It's your only chance. ;-)

Spring prints.

Spring is here, my favorite season, as you all know. The cold winds, bright sun, and blossoming flowers make up for the dry, itchy, and freezing winter that irked our heels, elbows and scalps every single day. It's the perfect season for picnics, photography, lake dates (too frumpy but who cares), and outdoor yoga (whatever that means).


My prints!! Love 'em or hate 'em.

I was so excited because the pool will be a daily exercise engine again, the highways wouldn't be a battlefield anymore, and I'll be able to wear my favorite tops with no longer messing up the sleeves (that was caused by default mechanism of layered clothing). So I cleaned up my closet over spring break, stacked my winter clothes on the other side, and put the spring/summer clothes on the accessible side. But how about a major killjoy? Just when I was about to jump out with my cropped pants and hippie top, the weather had to be pissy and blow us 50-degree winds. Well, that's not saying much compared to the "spring" New York has been having, but come on, 50s are for early fall, we're supposed to be in the 70s, not some foreplay to winter! But enough with the bitching. The weather has been fairly cooperative today, and I hope that it continues to be like this the following week, 'coz I'm not going back to school with a turtleneck on. Please.

Deuce Prize!

Don't leave!!! I'm not gonna drive my fanaticism up your clueless ass yet again, nor pursuade you to obsess with me. But I just thought I'd share the news here, for women may especially be delighted by it... Wimbledon and Roland Garros decide to pay women the exact same amount of prize money given to men after years of seemingly pointless debates. The old-fashioned grandslam juggernut (Wimby) finally wakes up in the 20th century and realizes that women are already accustomed to wearing pants, driving trucks, and mowing the lawn. The French Open emulated the maneuver shortly after.


Mike and Tony debate. Who's worse, Antonella or Sanjaya?

Now that all slams have committed themselves to equal pay, someone closeminded just had to rain on the parade. Tommy Haas, currently ranked #9, bitches that men are playing 5-setters during grandslams compared to women's 3, therefore he disagrees with the decision. I guess it would have made more sense if somebody like Federer was the one contradicting it, but Haas? Um, by any chance he stumbles upon this blog, or if Lizette advices him that a certain blogger is trying to sabotage his resurging career, here's an open letter that will hopefully avert his selfish opinion.

Tommy,

A five-setter is never compulsory. Just play damn well and you'll easily get a win within three sets. But you're simply not the Top 5 player you were centuries ago, hence you felt the need to unmask your inner sexist and inform the world of your irrational opinion. You openly deprecate women's ability to compete to your level because they never have five setters? Well, how about playing under the exceedingly hot sun, in a crucial first round match, with only a visor helping you continue breathing while tracking the rapid yellow ball. Sharapova, as huge as she appears to be, the teenager nearly died on that match, while you were granted either an indoor court or match suspension. Just try juxtaposing Rafael Nadal's biceps to Daniela Hantuchova's legs. Let's see if that particular comparison can provide anything have your stupid argument make sense.

A female tennis fan,
Kai

Speaking of Rafa...

One more time, please. Just let me write about it. *cue soap opera music* If it displeases you, then I'll let you go. I just have to let it out!!... Ok, so I had been waiting for this match-up for YEARS!! (2 years and 3 months to be exact.) Finally, the draw worked on my horny eyes' favor and set up a semifinal clash between two of the hottest men in sports today. OMG. California desert was sizzling to death!!!


Wherever Andy's hand is remains to be an enigma.
Oh my gosh! You're totally imagining it, hahaha!


Man, was that the spring break? Gee, I'll be back in school with no stories in tow! "How's your break?" "Oh, I just watched tennis, basketball and a lot of VH1. Lame, right?" Yeah, I'll only embarrass myself. Might as well start gathering some ideas now and fabricate a cool spring break story...

My dad's silly theorem and some who's who game.

Roger Federer's 41 winning streak was snapped by Guillermo Canas yesterday. Relatively unknown Argentenian upset the world number one in straight sets at the ATP Masters Series Indian Wells. And in ironic circumstances the streak Federer's trying to beat (Guillermo Vilas') was hindered by another Guillermo and an Argetenian at that!

Then 24 hours later, the Dallas Mavericks, who has already clinched a playoff spot last week, had their longest winning streak ended by playoff-desperados, Golden State Warriors (who, according to my brother, actually have a habit of beating the Mavs in their turf).

Ok, it's me I'm only entertaining. I'm sure you all are yawning to death because I'm talking Sports AGAIN. But hey! Don't leave yet! I've got a story. And I promise you, this one's pretty interesting.

My dad has this ludicrous theory about Mafia and dominant figures in sports (i.e., Roger Federer and the Dallas Mavericks). Each time they lose, he'd remind me of this particular assumption he has that's the catalyst of each defeat. He believes that there are money-making gangs or mobs out there who pay these athletes/clubs to lose for their gambling's welfare.

I know, it kinda sounds foolish, right? But now even my brother confirms that this kind of stuff actually happens in reality. For example, a mogul bets on Andy Roddick to win that tournament. He happens to be in the same bracket as Federer, who holds a 12-1 edge against him. For some ignorant reason, that mogul decides he'd go up against the odds and actually take his chances of allowing his money slip away. Now, with all that bazillions on the line, he pays Federer to lose the match, in order to give Andy Roddick a breathing space to win the title. If and when Andy wins, the mogul also does. Big, bigger, biggest bucks. And that's how it supposedly works.

I still think it's a little too implausible. Or maybe I'm just being naive, as I always am when it comes to Sports. I mean, don't take it from the adult who still wants to think Professional Wrestling is real. (Speaking of WWE, The Rock was backkkk!!! But that's a whole other story, which I doubt you'd be interested in anyway.) But I digress. I'm still skeptical about this mafia-buys-results theory, and it lacks sensible proof to be convincing and realistic.

Hmm... That wasn't really that interesting. But I tried. Sigh. I wish I have readers who are sport nutcases too. But anyway, I still love you all. So, to redeem myself from pitching this, how about a survey? YAY!!! (Snagged from Alternati.)

Who is the first blogger you met?
Well, we were not bloggers yet then, but Eira or Shai (as she's popularly known as). We knew each other way back our jolog (haha) years and it was a surprise to see her again, in the blogosphere, no less. But if you want to get technical, I have met none. Because Bone wrote me off when I was in California!! (Just kidding. But seriously mare, why didn't you show up again? Haha.)

Who is the blogger ‘You Most Want to Meet’?
John Mayer, because I'm smarter than Jessica Simpson. I'm not sexy, but I'm a natural brunette!

Who is the ‘I can meet, want to meet, but somehow never got to meet’ blogger?
My virtual sister, Ate Clare, who's my very first blog-friend (eversince blogdrive years). It's actually kind of weird how she's one of the people I trust the most, when I only knew her from cyberspace. That's how amazing this person is. And I really hope she had superpowers like Hiro's, so she could teleport here whenever I boyhunt. At nang mapalitan na din niya ang virtual kuya ko. :P

Do you have any bloggers/blog readers that you would like to meet right now?
Para walang tampuhan, I'll write your names on post-its and draw them from a basket. Let's see who makes up my list. Drumroll please...

1. Deb, another long-time friend through blogging. I failed to tell her that I was in Eagle Rock the exact same time she was. We could have chatted the night away with some halo-halo (during winter but who cares) from Chowking.
   
2. When I get the chance, I will celebrate Chinese New Year with Jaz, as we'll lunch tikoy and idiotically dance along the red dragon. Choopeta style.
   
3. I would also like to tour with Lizette, and check if Dmitry really steals Victoria Secret undies during rain delays just to make his locker the subject of ATP's envy.
4. Kat still owes me White Castles, and a stub to one of her gigs. Heh, I kid. Not really. :P
5. And Bone, that Chino's you promised!!! Puro pagkain ata ang utang sa akin. Pa-obvious!
   
6. One of the things in my to-do list is to hunt Russ down, when I come visit the Philippines. And she will have to provide me the best beach vacation there is. With blog-friend discount, of course.
7. I've always wanted to lead a solo and yuppie life in New York. And mainly because I hate to drive. Maybe in a couple of years, I'd beg Joey for help to show me around, and hand me tips of what-and-what-nots during 5-minute intervals between subway rides.
8. Next up... Jen. Um, I actually met her already, I just drew her name from the basket, and I didn't want to cheat so there you go. Seriously! There's some raffle going on here. ;)
9. [ETA] For some reason, I lost Chas, but anyway... I'm aware that if there's anything we both love during the itchy season of winter, it's not just snow, it's fashion. And I would love to go to Milan, Paris, Madrid with him during fashion week someday.
   
10. It was a margin of a day when Laureen and I were in the exact same place (Austin). I really wanted to meet her, in hopes of filling out the number one question before it comes around, but I wasn't able to do that due to uncooperative weather and conflicting schedules. I really hope to see her next time, perhaps next spring break, and we'll be party-ing like real single college babes during South by Southwest.
11. Vayie is the 1 to my 10. We share the same Kris-Aquino-annoyance, and the same love for Manu Ginobili. One of the funniest persons I've met. (Well, not met, personally, but crossed paths with, if you want to get all technical up my ass.) It would be really fun to watch Ask The Dust with her, and watch her squeal to death. :P
    
12. Talamasca. I haven't really known you all that much, but since your name surged from the basket, I'll just propose to you a challenge, when we get the chance to meet. How about a scrabble game only composed of curse words? Game? Lame? Really? Shit. Bitch. :))
13. I also want to meet Shari. Because she actually knows how to live like me. Big and beautiful!
    
14. And the wildcard goes to... Cruise! Ha, I'm so glad I got your name off the basket. (There really is a basket, folks!) You've been a constant visitor for years, even if we both enjoy changing addresses. And I'm actually one of the few who had the chance to know your real name. ;) I really enjoy your snapshots, and I hope your trip queue includes Texas. Because I tell you, we've got the best beef and barbecues. You'll love it here!
    

I apologize to those I unintentionally left out. Blame the basket! Or your luck. Til next time!

Purple rain, purple rain...

Rex Grossman's cute failure; a wannabe healthy meal; and some procrastination
I don't know where you were last night, but if you weren't watching the Superbowl, then you must be napping on the moon...or...fine, you must have a life! But me? Ha, I was one of 95 million Americans who enjoyed the championship juggernut. Cuddled up in my mom's limegreen sofa, I treated myself with some toast, salad and chips, while sharpenning my vocabulary and awaiting Prince's halftime extravaganza. I don't have the extreme love for football (well, compared to the habitual tailgaters) but I started watching the post season a couple of months ago when the Cowboys made it. They only lasted a game [hahahaha, funny ending too!] but who cares, all I was waiting for was the Superbowl...because Prince was about to steal the show, yo!


What? No Little Red Corvette??? Part one here.
So there he was and his horrible bandana, bringing the pizazz in the roaring stadium. Who would have thought that one stilleto-wearing performer (apart from those who expose their boobs) could generate an audience of foul-mouthed football enthusiasts who all willingly participated in swaying purple glowsticks in the air while there's a tsunami on the way? Only Prince! And you can't really say anything antagonistic about the whole thing. It was heavily raining, there's a gazillion electronics the man's putting his hands on, his hairdo was undergoing a major disaster, and yet he delivers a performance nothing short of spectacular. Whatta bad ass!!!


Honey, don't talk with your mouth full.


Ok, there's so much joy over Peyton Manning's best QB without a ring nickname farewell, and although he deserves that, I can't believe this year's ads aren't snagging mad props! I know, there were some really corny ones, but come on. That gay lion thing was hilarious! And Kevin Federline's too! But I wouldn't go as far as liking that Snickers commercial. Men making out over a chocolate bar? Totally not for me. There goes my answer to your query, Charles! Haha. But if I were to have a favorite, it's gotta be this. Oprah and Dave snuggling with some popcorn and NFL game? Classic!

Just when I was already getting into this bizarre sport, it had to take a break. Oh well...

And I am telling you...

I'm not going... Ok, that was cheesy. HAHA! Well, I certainly have no plans of extending this mini-hiatus, so please, just embrace me back.

I'm not that all about school actually, there's just been a lot of papers, chapter tests and disconcerting algebraic expressions to get over and done with before hopping back to the usual blogging habit...well, at least temporarily. So let's see... I guess I haven't been missing a lot. I did see The Queen and Dreamgirls over the weekend, I've already seen all the Best Picture contenders but Babel, which I don't have any interest in seeing anyway, and I'm presently counting down to the Oscars. Reviews are over at my Mulitply, so I'm not gonna expand opinions here anymore. But can I just say... if Jennifer Hudson doesn't win an Academy Award, I'll watoosee the Kodak Theatre til it burns down the whole Hollywood Blvd in ashes. Um, seriously!


See what I'm talking about?
Oscar Predictions:
Best Actress: Helen Mirren, "The Queen"
Best Actor: Forest Whitaker, "The Last King of Scotland"
Best Supporting Actress: Jennifer Hudson, "Dreamgirls"
Best Supporting Actor: Eddie Murphy, "Dreamgirls"
Best Director: Martin Scorsese, "The Departed"
Best Picture: "The Departed"

I don't really have a good reputation when it comes to predicting things, but I took this guessing game from Yahoo!, and got everything I answered right [but Best Actor]! But hey, that's some improvement!

Oh gosh, can't tell you enough how excited I am for J-Hud! Who would have thought that an Idol reject, who didn't even make the top 5, would be nominated for an Academy Award? Pretty surreal, right? Speaking of Idol, I haven't been monitoring the auditions like I used to in past seasons, but I've seen some good stuff here and there. So far, I like the attractive 16-yr old from New York, the hair-headed dude from Memphis, and that humorous afroboy from 'Bama. I'll be surprised if these three don't make it to the finals, or at least the Top 24. That's how good I think my taste is, hahaha!


Better-er


Also vigorously followed the two-week broadcast of the Australian Open, not to mention, in hopes of seeing another guy win it all besides Roger Federer. I mean, we all know the guy is unbelievably masterful, but every tournament he enters always seems to be the Federer invitational. That's how ridicolously perfect he is! Damn it. But at least, women's tennis brought some juice over the 2-week tourney. If Serena Williams mercilessly annihilating Sharapova in the finals wasn't exhilarating enough then I don't know what is. Told you, the junk is back!!!

Alright, that's about it. My own comeback is done. School's been refraining me to finish the ironing job and I've been stacked with clothes for almost 2 weeks now. Boy do I miss my yaya. So anyway, gotta get to this. See you later!

I don't know Math but I can do ABCs.

I'm finally registered as the dawn of a new career path is ready for me to take. Naks, ang drama. But seriously. I'm back to school, y'all! It's been a while since I'm bound to do something as productive as this, so yeah, I should be excited. Even if it means going to a class of 1+1 learners twice a week. :))

I'm actually not in the perfect mood right now, my eyes are kinda baggy already, and the Cowboys got devastatingly ousted in the playoffs. We totally had a shot, I mean, if Romo's stupid hands just got a good grip on that frickin' football, we would've easily won! All he needed to do was tightly hold on to it and yet he still couldn't get it done!!! But I knew the only thing that'd make my vanished Superbowl hopes subside is a survey. A MySpace kind of survey. Hahaha, seriously! You see, I wasn't the biggest fan of this "what did you last eat?" questionnaires, but it's grown to be therapeutic for me, especially at heartbreaking times like this. So here we go...

Snagged from Cher.

A - Available or single: Single and NOT looking. Taray!
B - Best friend: I don't have one, nor do I like one. Group of tight friends = less harm.
C - Cake or pie: Either. ;)
D - Drink of choice: Water. Especially during winter and flu season.
E - Essential item you use everyday: Water dispenser.
F - Favorite color: Red.
G - Gummy bears or worms: Worms.
H - Hometown: Cainta and downtown Dallas (the 'hood).
I - Indulgence: Chinese food, onion rings, and male tennis professionals (haha!).
J - January or February: January.
K - Kids & names: I'd love to, in time. Althea and Sebastian.
L - Life is incomplete without? Money. DUH?
M - Marriage date: Not even sure if it's for me.
N - Number of siblings: Two. Patrick, 18 and Jeffrey, 24 (deceased).
O - Oranges or apples: Apples.
P - Phobias or fears: Fears.
Q - Fave quote: From Masha and Michael...

Michael: "Girls are like subway trains, they come and go in 5 minutes."
Masha: "Boys are like parking lots, they're either taken or handicapped."
HAHAHAHAHAHA! LOVE IT!!! Girl power! :))

R - Reason to smile: Food on table, winning sports bets and less bulk mails.
S - Season: Spring. Cleaner, warmer, and funner.
T - Tag 3 people: Oh gosh, just snatch this time-filler if you want to.
U - Unknown fact about me: I wear bloody red nail color right now, hehe.
V - Vegetable you don’t like: Okra.
W - Worst habit: Yelling.
X - X-rays: Hate 'em. You need to be naked and all. YAK!
Y - Your fave food: Anything with noodles (pasta or pansit)
Z - Zodiac sign: Capricorn

DONE! Ok, my dad just had to remind me, like I'm a 9 year old that needs to brush her teeth and be in bed in 10 minutes, about church tomorrow morning. Hahaha, I'll miss this when I finally move out. Anyway, hope y'all are having a the best first '07 weekend! :)

Fedtard attack!

This post will go down as one of the bitchiest entries you could ever possibly read in this blog. I'm supposed to be done with getting pissed about it, since it's apparently not all that big of a deal, but I'm still not. And obviously, there's no better way for me to channel this overflowing fury other than to bitchwrite about it. So let's get this going.


Are you fuckin' kidding me?

Ok, first of all, I think Dwyane Wade is awesome. We all know the story about last season, and it was all great (yes, despite the phantom calls against my Mavs). But for him to be the recipient of this accolade sounds like a complete joke to my ears. Don't be misled though, I think the guy is a great basketball player, it's just that, my understanding of this award was it's supposed to be given to the best athlete slash sportsman in the world, on and off the court/field/ring, and there's no way I would have named Dwyane Wade that.

To start with, how can it be possible for Sports Illustrated not to give this then-prestigious recognition to somebody who's vastly dominating the sport of Tennis over the past three years? I mean, it can't be any clearer. Roger Federer IS the best athlete in the world today, and/or possibly EVER, and any sports analyst, who are in their right mind, would definitely agree with me, one way or another. He won three of the four slams this year, including Wimbledon for the FOURTH straight year, made the French Open finals, won more than 10 titles for the third consecutive year (open era record), cruised his way through his third Tennis Masters Cup title, and evidently, has just been leaving marks of his legacy in the history books.

And yet again, The 3-time US Open champ gets undeservingly snubbed by the American media.

"This award has always stood for more than the victory alone. It recognizes the manner of an athlete's striving and the quality of his or her efforts. Dwyane embodies that winning spirit by playing for his team, not himself, and by working in the community to ensure young people have the chance to realize their own dreams." - Sports Illustrated Group Editor, Terry McDonell ..... And you don't give the UNICEF Goodwill Ambassador the freakin' award??? Who are you kidding?!!

And honestly, Vince Young did more for the Longhorns than Wade for Miami. And it could've made more sense if the thing went to Lance Armstrong, who battled his way through cancer, or the New Orleans Saints' momentous comeback after the Katrina catastrophe. There's more out there than a commercially marketable Dwyane Wade, but unfortunately, the publication has turned a blind eye on it and refused to give recognition to the best athlete there is, nor even the most inspiring stories of the year.

But to end this animosity-filled entry, that only a few of you might understand anyway, let me go back to my enraged Fedtard attack... Roger Federer displayed three seasons of superiority and sheer perfection the world of sports hasn't seen in a long time. While Dwyane Wade, your Sportsman of the year, could barely hold an excellent playoff - in a team of five, with a coach on court, and officials who're accustomed of treating him like a baby.

Yes, I know all about Wade although I've never heard of him until the 2006 NBA Finals.

Finally!

I was itching to blog the past couple of days but nausea kept me out of it. I think an Aleve overdose caused it, or this vanilla tylenol I tried two nights back. But whatever, I'm just so glad that my swollen gum, caused by the beastial wisdom tooth, is gradually leaving my piehole at peace. I'm finally enjoying food once again, and my 3-pounder gain was proof of that. Not that I'm happy about that! But heck, as long as I can luxuriate in food again, hehehe.

So it's exactly 6 days from today before my much awaited vacay to California. I know, I've been bitching about the idea of moving there, but much to my disgust of that concept, I still like that place. That being said, I only like California as a vacation spot, not a place for me to suffer in for the rest of my life. I've sited my reasons quite precisely already, so let me not go there again. I'm excited though! It's been a couple of years since the last time I saw my favorite cousins, and there's my cute little niece waiting for me to finally cuddle her. I also have a ninang from Fresno whom I've never met, but kept in touch with. Can you believe that she gave me 10k pesos just for a concert??? I know, she owes me that much, but damn, she loves me too much to give me $200 only for a musical showcase, right? Haha. I'm not really that materialistic, but with a moneyed godmother, I'll be a hypocrite if I say that I don't anticipate what she's got instored for me. Hahaha! Just kidding. :P

I can't help but blog about this... Spederline is dunzo!!! OMG. Finally! I'm not really that big of a fan of Britney's, but I just loathe K-Fed so much that this news brought delight to my nauseous system. He sooo had it coming, but I still can't believe it took her sooo long to file for divorce! Nevertheless, this is worth rejoicing. Now let the Britney + Justin rumors begin. :))

EDIT: Women on The View celebrated with waves of confetti. Hahahaha! Fiesta ito!

ETA: Random snapshots I saw while reading my daily sports news. Just thought I'd share...


Maria Sharapova is officially the luckiest bitch in the world!

AND LOOK!


THE HOTTEST PRACTICE SESSION ON EARTH!!! *squee*
Finally! After two long years, they're on the same court again. Heck, who cares if it's not an actual match, haha. But dare I say this... I want Rafa and Roddick for Tennis Masters Cup Finals. I'm so sick of Rogelio's domination! He's too perfect! Somebody gotta take him down!

OK. That's VERY random, haha! Have a grandiose weekend, my friends! Be smiling. :)

I just got bang'd!

I know, couldn't have gotten a worse title than that. But look who's sporting a new do. I finally feel like a woman who cares how she looks like. And I effin' like it! But you know me, I was all that contented with how my hair was done on a daily basis, so I still had to literally streetfight with my mom before she got me to this urgent and totally nonessential haircut. We only went out to apply for a state ID replacement, and the next think I know, I'm already in the queue of makeovers. I was pissed! She knew I was rushing home to catch a tennis match, but she still insisted. Mahirap magpalaki ng magulang, so I just had to say yes, even after embarrassingly telling the hairdresser that I have to look good when I go to California to see movie stars. Trust me, that's not really my purpose. I ended up apologizing and thanking her anyway, because I think I look better now that the ponytail days are over. And the new bangs!!! Haha. Very Tina Paner.

I still made it to Rafa's quarterfinals match (this was last Friday, btw). I wasn't exactly pleased with the end result, nor by his opponent's celebratory arrogance. But it was entirely entertaining, to say the least. Perhaps it was Becks' absence that caused Rafa's uninspired tennis (the bromance, you know? lol), or maybe because Sergio let his Jennifer-Aniston-hair down that it easily became a distraction. Or it could be me. You know what, I think I jinxed him. Haha. You see, everytime I mention him in this blog, in the middle of a tourney, he always chokes. I think it happened 3 times now, in a row. Plausible, right? Maybe if I mention Federer, he could lose too? Just kidding.

So to compensate my frustration with Nadal's recurrent crappy tennis, ATP provided me with this photo of (L-R) Iker, Raul, Rafa, Sergio (thanks for the beanie), and Becks. ATP, you're awesome but nobody's worth of this collective Eurohotness. It's just too much!!! Ok, enough of the fangirl squee-ing. I just got a new do, so I now have to act accordingly.


Bakit kayo nagsisiksikan sa Madrid? Maluwag dito!
Onto other stories...

In less than a month's time, I'll be somewhere else, window shopping, strolling the strip, and endlessly chatting with an aunt whom I've not seen for the past 15 years. My memories of her though stayed clear over time, and our communication never waned, so hopefully I won't have problems being comfortable with and around her when I get there. After all, she's the same person who convinced me repeatedly that I'm a girl, not the kind who's socially allowed to collect matchboxes. And she even wanted me to be Little Ms. Philippines. I could have given Aiza Seguerra a run for her money, but I rejected the offer. Hahaha. We got our tickets yesterday, and looks like it'll be an 11-day escapade. Finally! A real vacation. Wardrobe for travel would be quite something to think about though, since weather here and there are as dissimilar as their timezones. The hours of our departure and arrival don't help either. Imagine, I woke up to 37°F this morning, without the heater and waterheater on. Man, this isn't normal. It feels like I'm in Colorado or something. Not even funny, and it's only October! But I know that coldfront there isn't as bad as this place's, and I'm sure they always have the heaters on whenever necessary, unlike here where they want to conserve energy as much as weather's still tolerable. Whatever.

On another very random note... I weighed in last night before going to bed, and it said that I lost 6 pounds from my last weigh-in. Of course I was instantly in cloud 9. My no-rice campaign is slowly paying off. Then when I woke up, guess what, I gained a couple of them damn pounds back. Huh?!! I only slept for about 6-7 hours and I got fatter. This is what we normally call a "what the fuck" moment. Seriously, that's just a pretty bemusing way to start my week off.

She's real!

Admittedly, I'm one of the bazillionettes who suspected the baby Suri to be just another product of a movie actor's fictional mind farts. But looks like we've just been proven wrong. There really is a Suri Cruise!!! Well, duh? Big deal, of course. At least for showbiz aficionados like me. The sum of this Cruise-Holmes intercourse had remained invisible since birth, hence the speculations of it being unreal. But here she is now!!! The real baby Suri!

What did I think, initially? She looks Asian. Crazy? Not really. But after a couple of minutes staring at the picture, and with my brother's opinion abruptly injected in the round thing above my neck, I figured... She's real. Well. Fine. She looks like Tom Cruise. And say, a little bit of the mother. But evs. The fact that she looks Asian is what really scrapped all of what could be a negative response to this current topic of the water cooler. She's adorable. Please.

ETA: About the comment box...

I've been paying attention to everyone who continually gets problems re commenting here. I actually don't know what exactly is going on, but I think this somehow was caused by my switch to Blogger's Beta features. On their behalf, I apologize. I would suggest that you switch to it as well, but I'm afraid you won't like its new thingamajigs. So maybe you can just choose the "other" option when entering a comment for the mean time. I know, sucks big time, but I'm really sorry about it. If I could only revert back to what blogger was like before the stupid changes.

And now for the Tennis geek in me...

I think I just jinxed Rafa's chances of getting further in the tourney. I just went to Austin, and when I came back, I was floored to witness this random Russian shockingly annihilate my favorite. He beat him in 4 fuckin' sets, with the last being 6-1. I still can't believe it! Well, not that it's the end of the world, but I can't help but wonder what could have gone wrong. It was uncharacteristically exhausting to watch him. But what the heck, he's still no.2, still frickin' hot, and I forever love him. So juicy, haha! There's only enough room left for one more upset, and that is for Andy Roddick not making it to the finals. There's gotta be a hottie in there! ((:

I've got another story, but it deserves an entry of it's own. It's so katawa and kainis. Super arte, haha. Til then.

Peanut Butter and Ginobili

I haven't really been paying attention to FIBA that much, well actually, not at all. I've only seen about 4 games which turned out to be a less than enthralling viewing experience than anticipated because of the massive margin of deficits most of the time. But I managed to tune in to this quaterfinals match between USA and Germany. Even with Dirk, being less than spectacular at the time, his gang still managed to give USA a run for its money through the first half. But it was clearer than crystal that the favored team will take the win in the end, hence Big D goes home, once again, empty handed. But looks like he's not conveying an upset alone. To my shock, Greece defeated USA by not 1, not 2, but 6 points! Haha, I never expected that, but consider me ignorant since I haven't really seen the Greeks play altogether. And if that isn't bad enough, Papa Manu is bound to play only for bronze instead of the gold. Bummah! Man, I think my less enthused approach towards the tournament jinxed my favorites. Hahaha, inako e 'no?

While I momentarily disregard my recently restored obsession with basketball, I invited my attention back to my aged fanaticism towards tennis. I know. I know. Sports geek alert. But evs, it wipes boredom off my forehead in lethargic times like this. As I was saying, tennis has been occupying my activity deprived system over the past few days as US Open is currently in progress with, not to mention, a number of sweaty foreign papables. I sound like a pervert. *erase, erase* Um, whatever. As if I can be fake anyway. Yes, these hunkapops are making me excited. Happy? Not in a libidinous manner, you tard! Seriously though, the attractive visuals are definitely magnetic enough for me to sit through it the whole day, but far more than that, I'm really just a huge fan of the sport itself. Honestly. (;

Current favorite? I know, everybody's all gaga over Roger Federer, but I gladly differ. Not that I'm not a fan of the top-seeder, but between him and his rival... Rafael Nadal, hands down. Maybe because Federer strangely looks like my first cousin, and that automatically restrains me from considering him as an eye candy? Or maybe because Nadal is way more expressive to continually release those intensified hot grunts? Fine. I'm a freak! But in all seriousness though, I'm desiring for a Nadal-Roddick finals. Seems to be a distant possibility for now, but who knows, 3rd round is just about to start.

EDIT: I just figured that Rafa and Roddick will eventually be in the same bracket. No chance for a finale as hot as that. But semis wouldn't be bad. I just hope I don't jinx either chances, haha. Agassi exited professional tennis today (Sunday). T'was a teary-eyed moment, but with 8 grandslams in his resume, how can I feel sorrow? And of course, that legendary rival with Pete Sampras can forever be a remembrance alone. He's awesome, he's gorgeous, and I'll miss him sure as heck.

My weekend will be is still jampacked with Tennis, no less. Y'all enjoy yours! (:

He's gotta be bad.

I admit, I'm positively one of the few ones who believe that first love indeed dies, eventhough it would be an absolute delight to see Britney and Justin back together. That's definitely sweet, but I just can't see myself being reunited with my first love. Ever.

Saw his most recent photo around Friendster and to my dismay, he grew his hair and changed his style, in other words, he looked drastically different. Totally not my type, not that it matters, and not that it's the only thing I'm after. But no matter how I loathe his semblance of mature image, I still have to say that he's undoubtedly one of the nicest guys I've ever met in my life. He always made me feel noteworthy, and was probably the closest thing to a prince charming a preteen Snow White could ask for. But the thing is, he was too nice! Our puppy love blommosed in 4th grade, nothing really serious, as it waned eventually. We met again in high school, where I was totally the opposite of what I was when he met me, but in junior year, I somehow found out that I was still in his pursuit. Like, what? If a guy is not over you after 5 years, there's something wrong. And it quite freaked me out.

Therefore, if you're the typical nice guy who always has the most difficult time of letting go, then you're totally not for me. I know, what the heck, right? Maybe you're totally misunderstanding my point. I'm not looking for a guy who has a crapload of tattoos all over his engine, nor a guy who has piercings even down to his balls. I'm only wanting a guy who won't be afraid to not compromise. One that can battleshit with me, curse me once in a while, someone that can take me to some place unimaginable. A God-fearing daredevil, a family-oriented son of a bitch, and a respectful-to-his-wife badass. Oh boy, how I wish I can program my eventual husband. *sigh*

On a completely irrelative note, I just witnessed another piece of history last Friday. I think I found my dream guy. Ha! I'm such a laughingstock... Travis Pastrana, perfectly landing the first ever Moto X double backflip in X games history. Yes, a kiss of death. I think I just described him precisely in the previous paragraph, hahaha. I'm dreamy. Fine. I'll stop.


I think I love him. Hahaha! *zips kisser*

Chain Yakking

Papa bought me this jar of chocolate filled wafer sticks from the Asian market earlier this week, you know, those which look like champola. It has been hanging around in the kitchen for almost a week, and the subconsciously gluttonous being that I am, munch on it every after meal. I just can't resist! It's been years since the last time I got a grip on those. So yum! And you bet, them wafer sticks are disappearing like leaves on a tree during fall, haha.

Speaking of fall, our backyard seems to be living on a different season. The next one is yet to hit this part of the crust later this month, so the leaves falling this early is quite an annoyance to my sight. Plus, I hate to be cleaning the mess, specially under the gally heat.

Speaking of heat, Dwyane Wade, and the rest of Team USA were victorious in their first dress rehearsal last night for the World Championships. The cohesiveness and dynamism were fantastic. With a core composed by superstars like LeBron, 'Melo, and the finals mvp, you can at least expect a my horse is bigger than yours showdown, but no, they were amazing collectively, and definitely worked as a team. I'm so glad I'll be cheering for a plausible contender this time.

It was reported a couple of days back that Queer Eye's time was up. I was in shock, totally floored. I'm a huge fan of the show and I didn't see a good enough reason for it to be canned. Thankfully, it all turned out to be false. Ugh, I almost scribbled hate mails, haha. Apparently, shortly after the rumor circulated the earth, Bravo hurriedly offered the Fab 5 a new contract. Good move, dumbass! Unless you wanted another gay network to snatch your blockbuster.

Speaking of blockbuster, I haven't really had the urge to watch movies lately. Can you believe I missed Superman? Needless to say, as well as Devil Wears Prada and The Lake House. I know, I should get my ass off the couch. But there's just nothing that inclined me to it. My brother though has been endlessly asking me to see The Descent with him this weekend. I would love to, but the last time I watched a horror flick, I had the weirdest imaginations of Japanese girls. Plus, I don't think I've been convinced enough.d=

K, enough of this chain thing. Got the lame idea from this new game show on GSN. Yes, I watch GSN, there goes a solid indication that I have such a boring life. Anyway, the hair above my eyes are growing yet again, as well as my fem beard. I gotta find the tweezer and clean up. Gee, the cons of a woman. I have to catch up on some wrestling and X games too, so I better get going. Have a great weekend, honeybunnies!

In need of a better digicam.

So, amidst the less-than-hyped system I was trapped in, I still went to see Saturday Night's Main Event with Bo last night. I almost gave that ticket away, and boy, I'm so glad I yielded the persuasion, otherwise, I could've missed a whole damn lot. As many of you know, I'm a big fan of professional wrestling, so if some of you aren't down with that, I advise you to leave. This entry will be filled by what will be a spastic narration, no less.

We arrived at the AAC 15 minutes late of the starting time which was 5:30pm. All along I was questioning as to why it begins at 5:30, when TV guide says that the program starts at 7, and it's supposed to be aired live. Dumbass me didn't realize that it's airing on network television, and for that reason, parts of it were needed to be pre-taped. And so after eating a wondrous whataburger, Papa dropped us off the west entrance, and we readily headed our way to the line, and waited for an estimated 15 minutes under the scorching Dallas heat. Then, we finally settled on our more than satisfying seats at exactly 6:00pm. The view was better than what we could've expected. It just sucked a bit because Paul London had a match and we hardly caught any action. So anyway, I was seated next to my brother, of course, and a black guy to my right who has an uncanny resemblance to Mavs' Erick Dampier. I was a little bit conscious at first because the seats were not as convenient as they're supposed to be, especially for Texans, but as the gentleman I assume he was, he made me feel comfortable with the way I was seated. Needless to say, he also seemed like someone I befriended throughout the show. He was funny.

I was slightly disappointed though, because a lot of the matches, seemed to have been choreographed hastily and lazily (dark matches excluded). I guess, I'm only bitching because my first time was superbly sulit. I paid $60 bucks for a floor seat, and I was supplied with 3 hours of jampacked grappling. Whereas, this $40-dollar treat couldn't compare. BUT, there is one thing that I was witness of last night, that I didn't get the chance to see the previous time. Underfrickintaker! Holyshitness. That was the most surreal thing I have ever seen. As a kid, I would be extremely horrified by his gigantic creature, and those devilish antics, let alone his freakishly chiller music. But he is a phenom, per se, and as a fan that I am, it was the cherry atop the fabulous night that I was having. I have finally seen The Undertaker! I can die now.

Who's my favorite, you ask? Well, right off the bat, I'll tell you it's Triple H and HBK. But I also happen to be a fan of John Cena, who unfortunately faded as a major favorite among the crowd. The best thing about the event though was that I was inserted in a crowd of men who all know their shit, my brother included. Unlike others on the other side who only "boo" people just so they'd get hitched by a certain bandwagon. I take my brother as a perfect example of this point I'm trying to make. In the more than 10 years of his passionate adoration for professional wrestling, he only worships three people. Them being: Triple H, Mick Foley and Ric Flair. Yes, Hulk Hogan doesn't count as his god. Anyway, I knew that he loathed Cena, much like a lot of you do. Hence, my surprised reaction when he applauded him. He clapped, just like all the men around us did. And that minimal applause ingrained my integral respect for my brother and his own share of fanaticism. He's just not another professional wrestling die-hard. He's one of them genuinely smart fans, who give mature ovation whenever it is due.

Speaking of my brother, he was the one taking the pictures and the videos simultaneously. So I credit him for everything we've got. It's just unfortunate though that the images doesn't come close to justifying what we saw, personally. Check them out here and here.

Overall, it was a decent treat. Good show, great seats, best part of the crowd. I had a ball. My mother presently says that the next time WWE comes to town, she won't be paying for the tickets anymore. She actually said the same thing last year, haha. But I guess, we won't torture her any longer. It's my father's turn the next time around. Kidding! I cheered for Batista the loudest, just so you know. He's a fella, and I can't help but be so proud of him. Have you seen his new ink? Anyway, this is lengthy enough. So long.

How about my idol?

"Bata" crowned the new IPT King Of The Hill.
aka THE BEST POOL PLAYER IN THE WORLD.

Fine. I get it. Manny Pacquiao is your Philippine Sports hero. But what about Efren Reyes? He has single-handedly changed pool in every sense of the sport, let alone, his being the first Filipino inducted into the Hall Of Fame. Hence, the fact that he doesn't get the attention Manny Pacquiao has been injected with bothers me, to think that they're both still very dominant in their respective fields. Yes, I am bitter. Because I am simply tired of seeing Pacquiao's overrated offense and try-hard attempts into showbizness, or so I've heard. While my own athletic hero is continuously gaining even more glory for the Philippines in his humble and quietest ways.

Shifting moods...

Did you see the FIFA finals? What the fuck. Hahaha, Zidane Zidone. What was he thinking? I never really liked him, but I have a ton of respect for the guy. He's probably the BEST soccer player of this generation, without any ounce of exaggeration. He's retiring after the cup, and boy shall I say...that is the ugliest exit in the history of sports EVER! *headbutts keyboard*

And yay for Italy winning it, although it was kinda lame that it all came down to PKs. Oh well, another 4 years in the waiting until Brazil and Kaka kick some major butt, haha! Now, some FIBA in two months. Can't wait!